Breaking the Chain
by RynStar15
Summary: Two worlds, two missions, two prophecies. One race against time to defy all odds.
1. Chapter 1

A/N:

 **Tags: Abuse, Angst, Death, H/C, HJ, Lang, M/F, Non-con, Oral, Tort, Violence, WIP**

 **This story is based 1.5 after HBP disregarding DH. The first few chapters are fairly short, they will get longer quickly.**

You can find more of my stories on Adult-FanFiction under the same name. You must be 18 to enter the site and as such, any of my writings are ADULT themed. If you prefer to contact me privately or would just prefer to have a longer discourse about anything, you can email me directly at yourcookiedoughbaby at yahoo or PM me here.

I have a little over 20 chapters done and will be updating every few days when I have time. I do my own beta-ing so PLEASE let me know if you catch anything that needs my attention. I am only human, after all.

Now, on with the story!

...

Hermione ran. She could hear her feet pounding on the stones beneath her; felt her labored breath burning in her chest and the echoes of the screams from the rooms above her like an arrow to her heart. She knew what she had to do; they had gone over it so many times it was carved into her memory.

 _Kill the snake, destroy the Horcrux, DO NOT BE SEEN._

As frightened as she was she was also resolved. She knew where the snake was, guarded by Wormtail in a room off the dungeons. Moody had signaled to her through the throng of the fight, he had seen the snake, knew where it was. She could remember the blissful feeling of peace that stole over her for a moment as she allowed him to enter her mind. He showed her where to go, what passages to take and what was waiting for her at the end. Although she knew what she was doing, had faith in her abilities, her heart hammered with fear. Fear for her friends upstairs, for the people of the wizarding community who were counting on them, and for her very own life.

If she was brutally honest with herself, she was afraid to die. She knew she would do so if it was asked of her, but the thought was terrifying. She had come to the realization long ago that her young life was expendable. Harry was the one who had to survive this, to end it. She was but a pawn in this sick and twisted game.

As she turned the corner for the last length to the room she felt a hand grab her upper arm and twist her face-first into the wall. She let out a yelp of terror and pain as her arm was yanked up her back incapacitating her before remembering that she had to be silent, she couldn't forewarn Wormtail. Her heart all but stopped when a husky voice breathed in her ear.

"Where do you think you're going, Mudblood?"

Hermione knew that voice and her fear doubled. Draco Malfoy. He had somehow found her. Bucking against the weight pinning her to the wall she tried to turn around into an advantageous position in order to hex him but he was far too strong. He tightened his grip on her and pushed her roughly against the wall, her face chafing against the cold stones.

"Don't make me hurt you Granger! Now tell me where you are going!"

"As if you won't kill me anyway!" she snapped, completely forgetting about secrecy. It didn't matter if Wormtail heard now; all that mattered was getting the upper hand on the ferret. She once again struggled to throw him off but he grabbed her hand which had been smashed between her chest and the wall and yanked it out, twisting it until she cried out in pain and dropped her wand.

"The fight's upstairs, Granger," Malfoy growled as he pressed her harder against the stones, his breath hot on her neck. "Are you running away? Is the know-it-all Mudblood frightened?"

 _Yes._ She was scared out of her mind, but she would never let him know.

"Let me go, Malfoy. _Now!"_

"Not until you tell me where you're going. As much of a weakling as I know you are, I highly doubt you are down here to sit in a corner and cry. What are you after?"

"I won't tell you anything, so you might as well do away with me now!" she huffed, her mind whirling with how she was going to get out of this situation. She prayed Moody could see her plight and was sending help.

"Don't fuck with me, Granger! You have no idea what I'm capable of," Malfoy said dangerously and Hermione knew she had to act fast before the rat snapped and actually cursed her.

She twisted in a last ditch attempt to free herself. As she turned she brought up her knee, catching him in the most sensitive area she could think of. He grunted and doubled over in pain, giving Hermione a chance to escape. She dove to the ground where her wand had landed and rolled to stun Malfoy but before the words could even escape her lips he had thrown himself on top of her. She cried out as his weight crushed her against the hard floor and in a mad tangle of limbs, the two teenagers battled for leverage.

Hermione knew she would lose; he was bigger, stronger and had the more advantageous position. But she refused to give up. She screamed out a Stunning Spell which missed Malfoy by a meter when he pinned her wand arm to the floor. Bucking underneath him she struck out with everything she had: nails, teeth, feet. As her fingers clawed down the side of his face he cursed in pain and drew back instinctively giving her the split second she needed to make a break for it. She threw herself bodily into him knocking him onto his back, landing atop him.

Hermione pushed herself to her feet and bolted. She hadn't gone more than two steps when she felt his hands clawing at the hem of her robes. She turned quickly hoping to make him lose his grip but he used his other hand to grab the front of her shirt to pull himself up. Instead of the shirt however, he grabbed the chain that had fallen out of its tucked position beneath her camisole during their fray. She screamed in horror as it broke and Malfoy fell forward, his momentum taking her with him. The back of her head hit the stone and the world disappeared in a burst of white light.

...

"Granger!"

Hermione moaned. Her head felt like it had broken into a million pieces. It was the burning, pounding sensation of one of her usual migraines. _Great._

"Granger! Wake up!"

She moaned again at the loud voice. Who was calling for her? And who in the world called her _Granger?_

Malfoy. Oh, sweet Hades. Malfoy called her that name. Everything came rushing back to her in a tidal wave of realization.

She shot up to a brief view of Malfoy's terrified face hovering above her only to have a wave of dizziness and nausea force her to slam her eyes closed and lay back down. She swallowed the bile rising in her throat and took several deep breaths to steady her head. Black stars were dancing in front of her eyes, clouding her vision. She'd obviously sustained a mild concussion from the fall.

"What happened? Where are we? What did you do?"

What was he talking about? They were in the dungeons of the Malfoy Manor, _his_ home for Merlin's sake!

 _"I_ didn't do anything! _You_ tackled _me_ you imbecile!" she croaked crossly, holding the sides of her head and waiting for the spinning to subside.

Wait…why wasn't he attacking her?

Malfoy began yelling incoherently while she tried to sort out what had happened after he'd tackled her. Knowing she should take advantage of whatever reason Malfoy had to stop fighting her, she finally opened her eyes she had to blink against the bright sun.

Wait, _sun?_ What sun? She gasped as she sat up slowly and realized that they were no longer in the dungeons. In fact, they weren't even indoors. Looking this way and that all she could see were rolling hills of green grass, a lush forest half a mile to her left and _nothing else._ No people, no stone walls, nothing. What happened?

It was then that she remembered. The Time Turner. It had been around her neck. Malfoy had grabbed it when he had tried to take her down. _No..._

"Malfoy! My necklace! Where is it?" she cried almost hysterically as she searched all around where they were sitting.

"Necklace? You're worried about a fucking necklace? Why don't you try worrying about the fact that _we are in the middle of fucking nowhere!"_

"That necklace, you moron, was a Time Turner! We need to find it so we can figure out where we are and get back!"

Malfoy's face paled. "Oh shit."

Her heart sank. "What?" He nodded a few inches to her left. There is was, laying in the grass in a puddle of gold and crystal, broken into a thousand pieces.

"No… _no!_ Oh, Merlin! You broke it! I can't believe this! You BROKE IT!" she screamed as she knelt over the necklace assessing the damage. It was irreparably destroyed. The hour glass was in pieces, the sand inside creeping between the blades of grass. The turn circle was broken, the chain snapped. Her heart sank.

"It not _MY_ bloody fault, Granger! If you had just answered my question, none of this would've happened!" he snapped hysterically. "What the hell are you doing with that thing anyway? I thought all the Time Turners had been destroyed?"

"None of your business, Malfoy! Do you understand how much trouble we are in?" she cried, looking up at him.

"Why don't you just fix it?"

She scoffed. "You can't just _fix it_ , Malfoy _._ Time Turners cannot be repaired after they are broken. That's why they are only given to _responsible_ wizards and witches!"

"Looks like they fucked up with you then, doesn't it?" he jeered, then cut her off as she began to protest. "Look, if we can't fix it, what the hell are we supposed to do?"

She shook her head. "Usually, one would just go to the Department of Time Travel and get it replaced. But since you broke it while it was still technically attached to me, I don't know." she looked around at their barren surroundings before peering up at him. "Wizards disappear all the time using the Time Turner. I've never heard of a wizard who broke the Time Turner while it was still attached to his body. Probably because they disappeared and were never found."

Malfoy's face fell. "So…what are you saying?"

Looking deep into his silver-blue eyes she told him what her heart already knew. "I'm saying that unless we can sneak into the Ministry, if there even _is_ a Ministry, and steal one from the Department of Mysteries…we are stuck here."

...

XOXO

RynStar15


	2. Chapter 2

"What do you mean we're stuck here?"

Draco felt as if he'd been hit by a ton of bricks. _Stuck here?_ They couldn't be stuck here, wherever _here_ even was!

Granger sighed. "I mean that there is no way to get back. I can't fix this," she said gesturing to the necklace. "Unless we can find someone who can give us a new one, we are stuck."

"What, so you're telling me Miss-Know-It-All braniac witch doesn't know the one thing that would help us out of this mess?" But she always knew the answer!

"Yes, that is exactly what I am saying."

 _Fuck!_ How could this have happened? He could feel her eyes follow him as he paced back and forth on the grass. He had to get back; he had a job to do. And it would have been done too if the stupid witch had just answered his question and done what she was told. What had she been doing down there anyway? And why did she have a bloody Time Turner? There were too many unanswered questions and he could feel his control slipping. They were losing precious time, anything could have happened since they'd left. His anger mounted and he knew he was about to snap.

"This is your bloody fault, you stupid bint! I could kill you for this!" He advanced on her intending to- well, he actually had no idea what he was going to do but when she flinched away from him he stilled. His temper had never been a pretty one and more and more lately he'd found it nearly impossible to reign in. He had to keep cool. He had to fix this and he needed Granger to do it. She knew more about this stuff than he did. Beating her to a pulp, while it may make him feel better, would do no good. He ran his hands repeatedly through his hair until had calmed enough to think rationally.

"Okay. Okay, so what do we do now? You said we had to find someone who had a Time Turner. So let's do it, let's find someone."

She stared at him incredulously from where she still sat on the ground. "Are you daft? Do you _see_ anyone? We could be in any time period! We have no idea what this area is like, what this time is like! We can't just go waltzing up to people and start asking for Time Turners, we could be murdered on the spot!"

"Then what do you suppose we do?" he thundered at her. She was being completely unreasonable. She got them into this situation; she had better find them a way out!

"We'll head north-west, towards London. We should be in exactly the same place we left. The Time Turner doesn't take you to a different place, just a different time. From there, we should be able to assess our situation."

He glared down at her bushy head and felt his blood boil. "That's it? That's the best you have?" _Assess the situation my arse!_ He needed answers _now!_ He didn't have time to go walking to bloody London. The Manor was over 20 miles from there! The Manor, where he was supposed to be carrying out his mission, not gallivanting through the countryside with the very woman he was supposed to-

"Do you have any other ideas?" she scolded, snapping him from his reverie.

"Why don't we just Aparate?" he suggested.

"Don't you know anything about time travel?"

Of course not. He had never used a Time Turner before now. "Care to explain, Professor Granger?" he drawled.

She rolled her eyes condescendingly. "You can't Aparate unless you have a destination in mind. In case you haven't noticed we have never been here before so we would have no idea where to go. So unless you happen to have a broom hidden beneath your robes, we have to walk."

Chewing down every angry retort he wished to throw at her, Draco gestured towards London. "Be my guest," he said scathingly.

Granger snorted, stood, and headed in the complete opposite direction from where he had pointed. Humiliated, Draco reluctantly followed.

...

They walked. And they walked. The weak October sun shone overhead exacerbating her already pounding headache. Hermione was sore from their earlier tussle, which it seemed they were going to ignore for the time being.

What she couldn't understand was why Moody hadn't seen him down there in the first place and warned her. Had he come after Moody had looked? Had Malfoy followed her? But why?

Hermione wasn't sure of anything anymore. She wondered if Moody had witnessed their disappearance. Were they looking for her even now? She worried her bottom lip as she thought about the war going on without her. They needed her, she was supposed to destroy the last Horcrux and help Harry defeat Voldemort. She knew the Order and Aurors couldn't hold off the Death Eaters long, they were severely outnumbered. Hours had passed, the battle could have ended by now, any number of her friends could be lying dead...because of her...no, she wasn't going to think like that. There was nothing she could do right now but figure out how to get back. She fumed. If Malfoy hadn't...no, she wouldn't dwell on that either. She had to focus, everyone was counting on her!

 _Come on, Granger, think!_ She had read up plenty on Time Turners before she used one for the first time in third year. She knew a witch, Alvida Eynon, had invented the very first one in the year 1236. It had taken her most of her life to figure it out and days after she did she was executed for practicing witchcraft. Hermione's heart felt heavy for the poor witch who had spent so much effort into finding a way to travel through time only to be killed so soon afterward.

She had also read about all the horrendous things that had happened to wizards who went back in time. Changing their lives and ending up killing themselves on accident were just a couple. That was why the Time Travel Enactment of 1612 came to pass. Now you had to be licensed, hand chosen, and trained in the usage of Time Turners. Not just anyone could get their hands on one. She was the youngest witch to use one since the Enactment came out, all thanks to McGonagall.

Hermione had given it back after her third year after feeling so guilty about using it to save Sirius. But the older witch had handed it back to her a little over a year ago so she could go back in time to see where Voldemort had hidden his Horcruxes. Hermione's mouth had dropped in shock believing all of the Time Turners had been destroyed after the battle at the Ministry. McGonagall had simply smiled and proclaimed that she'd kept it with the thought that Hermione would need it back for N.E.W.T classes and Dumbledore had urged her to keep it secret after the incident at the Ministry. It was very possibly the last one in existence. And now it, too, had been destroyed.

Hermione sighed, remembering the stern lecture she'd received from the lead Order members as they had come together to discuss her mission. Molly had fought against it but the others had won out. Hermione was the most experienced member when it came to time travelling. It had taken a lot of practice, and more time than they had to teach someone else what came so easily to Hermione. It made sense. She was of-age and incredibly skilled in stealth due to sneaking about the entire year with it. And, thanks to Harry, she was the only other person besides him who knew more about Tom Riddle due to his lessons with Dumbledore. He'd taught Harry things none of the other adults had ever learned and as Harry had told her and Ron everything he'd learned, it was a perfect chance for her to use her skills against him.

Of course, Harry had been completely against the plan stating that it was too dangerous, that he should be the one to do it. But he had finally come around (rather reluctantly) when they explained that there was no way he could go back in case something happened. He had to stay in the present. Ron had thrown his own fit after he was told, wondering why they didn't just go back and do him in when he was born. They all had an extremely long conversation in which Harry had also sided with him, knowing that if Voldemort had never been born, his parents never would have died. But they were finally able to bring the two around by explaining that they had no way of knowing what would happen if they changed that much history. It was too big of a risk; any one of them might not even be born if they changed something so drastically. No, it was best that this mission was carried out secretly, with nothing changed. Hermione was only going to observe, not to intervene.

Ron then made a proclamation that she wasn't going anywhere without his protection. She had pulled him aside for a private conversation with him telling him that he had to stay for Harry's sake, but everyone knew that the fewer who travelled, the safer. Ron never fully came around, however, and they had to somewhat tiptoe around him when she was sent on her tasks.

Her first task had gone off flawlessly. She had followed Riddle deep into the woods of the Albanian Forest. She had been able to fly alongside him on Harry's broom wearing his invisibility cloak. It had been the most terrifying hour of her life due to her inept flying skills and the danger of the situation. What had shaken her most was that Voldemort hadn't needed a broom to fly. It was an incredibly unsettling image.

She had stayed far enough behind him for him not to hear her. She had worried that he knew she was there; he kept glancing back at her. When she had told Moody about her apprehensions later he had calmed her by saying that his strength had not reached to levels of acute sensory at that point. And with her help, they had been able to track down Rowena Ravenclaw's diadem and destroy it.

Her next venture still woke her at night. Dumbledore's memories from the Pensieve were usually authentic, but this one had led her straight into a Death Eater meeting. The memory had been Snape's, not Dumbledore's. She had come in under the invisibility cloak of course, but had made noise when landing. She had stumbled and knocked into a masked Death Eater. The room had broken out into mass chaos. Spells flew everywhere and they were all out on the alert. She had screwed up, she knew. Voldemort was supposed to go to the hiding place of the next Horcrux after the meeting according to his correspondence with Snape. But she'd never made it that far.

In the fray she had ran into none other than Lucius Malfoy. He had realized what was happening before the others and ripped at the cloak, showing her legs to the room full of Death Eaters. She had thankfully been able to keep her face covered but the damage had already been done. She had been severely wounded by the time she had been able to escape, having been struck by several spells. It was only her luck that they'd been forbidden by Lucius to cast the Killing Curse as he'd wanted to find out the culprit. To this day, Hermione still wasn't sure how she'd escaped alive.

Harry had been ready to call off the whole thing, but as Lupin had stated, no real damage had been done. Hermione would be fine in just a few days and the next time, they would be more careful. So two weeks later, Hermione was back on her search.

They could only guess at which memory might lead them to a hiding place. They tried several and failed but finally, after days of searching, they succeeded. A meeting between Bellatrix and Voldemort which Snape had accidentally stumbled upon… a goblet switching hands, the word "Gringotts" had been mentioned…

 _Hermione flipped her Time Turner to over 20 years before. She landed in front of the gilded doors of Gringotts, waiting for hours and hours until she spied the witch she was looking for. A much younger Bellatrix Lestrange strode up the steps, her similarly young looking husband at her side. Hermione shuddered at their proximity but slipped in behind them, following silently thanks to the Cushioning Charm she'd placed on her feet hours before. The two shoved aside an old warlock and proceeded straight to the lead goblin._

 _"_ _We wish to enter our vault," Rodolphus grunted. The goblin looked down at them wearily._

 _"_ _Will this be a deposit or a withdrawal today, Mr. Lestrange?"_

 _"_ _A deposit. I require your most trusted employee."_

 _The goblin eyed him curiously. "Of course. Right this way, if you please…"_

Knowing she could go no further with the charms they used for protection, Hermione had hurried back, the evidence clear. The cup was in the Lestrange's vault.

The extraction went as planned. Bill used his connections to get them in and they'd spent a terrifying afternoon extracting it. Harry had destroyed the cup with glee using a Basilisk fang they'd dug up from the Chamber of Secrets.

So now they had the locket, the diary, Helga's cup, Rowena's diadem, and Salazar's ring. All that was left was the snake, Nagini, and Voldemort himself. Both of which were supposed to have been taken care of today.

But instead she was stuck in some time only Merlin knew when with none other than Draco sodding Malfoy.

Hermione glanced behind her every once in a while to make sure he still was following. She really couldn't care less if he came back with her at all, but she sure as hell didn't want to leave him in the past to muck up the future for the rest of them. So now she was stuck dragging his annoying arse across England to find a Time Turner (which seemed highly unlikely) so they could get back.

She sighed and rubbed her throbbing head. She started when she heard Malfoy's whiny voice.

"Granger, in case you haven't noticed it's getting dark, we haven't eaten, and we've been walking for hours."

"In fact, Malfoy, I am well aware of all of those things. But I would like to get back to the present so just shut up and keep moving."

He jogged the few feet to walk beside her and she fixedly ignored him. Growling, Malfoy grabbed her sore arm and yanked her around to look at him. "I'm tired, I'm hungry, and I have to piss like there's no tomorrow. Let's just stop for the night. We won't be getting anywhere in the dark."

Damn him. He was right. She knew he was right. Wrenching her arm from his grasp she mumbled "Fine, we can find some shelter in those trees over there. We'll make a fire and see if we can find some food to sustain us for the night."

Malfoy smirked at her. "I knew you would come to see reason."

He headed for the trees and Hermione groaned pitifully. It was going to be a _very_ long night.

...

XOXO

RynStar15


	3. Chapter 3

Draco smiled to himself. It was easy enough to use guilt to get the bleeding-heart witch to stop for the night. As soon as she drifted off to sleep he would steal the Time Turner and Aparate to London where he could find someone to fix it for him. Then he could return to the future, do his job and not have to worry about the pest whose tight little arse he had been watching all day.

He groaned inwardly as he found a dense bush in which to do his business. He was getting hard for the umpteenth time today. Having to watch her pert little bum their entire walk had taken a toll on him as his fantasies drifted to include him sneaking up behind her and sliding his rock hard cock into her hot pussy. He could only imagine the way her round bum would slap back against him as he slammed into her over and over making her scream his name…

 _Fuck, stop it! Look who you're thinking about! It's the_ Mudblood _, the nasty know-it-all wench whose stupid little button nose has always been in your business. She's the bloody reason you're here!_

Shaking his head at his musings he finished up, adjusted himself to fit back into his pants, thanking the gods his robe was large enough to cover his throbbing erection. It had been _way_ too long since he'd been laid. The Dark Lord had been harder on them all as of late and there had been more raids, more battles, endless stakeouts. The madman had seemingly become unhinged as The Boy Who Lived continued to evade him. It had been a year and a half since Dumbledore had fallen and they were no closer to killing Potter than before.

Draco's stomach rumbled and he turned his morbid thoughts on finding something to eat. He hadn't been searching long when he heard Granger's shrill cry. Draco ran towards where he had heard her, whipping out his wand as he leapt over brush. He came to a very sudden halt in front of a distressed looking Granger. She was staring down at her wand in her hand in utter disbelief.

"What? What is it? What happened?" he gasped, looking around for an intruder.

"I-I can't…I can't…"

"What is it? Spit it out!"

She looked up at him, her eyes wide with fear. "I can't do magic."

Shocked, he stared at her blankly. "What?"

"I can't do it, I tried to light a fire but it wouldn't work. So then I tried to Summon some sticks to me and I couldn't do that either."

Was this some sort of sick joke? "Of course you can do magic, try it again."

 _"Accio sticks!"_ she shouted to a small pile of twigs. They didn't as much as stir _. "Accio! Accio! Accio!"_ Nothing.

"Here let me try, Granger, as you're dim-witted arse can't even do the simplest of spells," he goaded, though he was forced to swallow back the unease he felt at the intelligent witch's demonstration. Figuring there must be something wrong with her wand, Draco pointed lazily to the pile of twigs _. "Accio sticks!"_

The wood remained steadfast.

Stunned, he stood up straighter. _"Accio sticks!"_ he said, this time much more forcefully. But nothing happened. He tried again. And again. Then he turned to the small set-up Granger had constructed to be their fire and attempted to light it. Once again, nothing happened. By now he was starting to panic. What was wrong? Why couldn't they do magic? He tried to turn a tree blue, shoot sparks at a bird perched on a branch nearby and curse Granger with bat-bogies. The tree stayed green, the bird remained undisturbed, and the bushy haired witch was bogey-free.

"What the fuck are we supposed to do now?" he demanded staring down at the useless bit of wood in his hand. Granger just shook her head solemnly and sat down heavily, dropping her face into her hands.

"Don't you dare start the water-works Granger or I swear to Merlin-"

"I'm not crying, you git! Just leave me alone so I can think!"

Draco let out an exasperated yell, finally scaring the bird off its perch. He pounded off into the woods swatting at plants and kicking bushes. His toe caught a large rock under one and he cursed, hopping up and down on one foot waiting for the pain to ebb. He grumbled the unfairness of their situation away as he began his search for food again. The sun was falling rapidly and he knew he only had maybe a quarter hour of light left. After nearly ten minutes of his fruitless search he finally ran into a large mass of bushes with berries on them. He had no idea what they were so he licked one to see if they were poisonous. He nearly jumped for joy at the sweet flavor. Gathering as many as he could he hurried back towards the clearing the Mudblood had found. When he arrived he saw a small fire crackling. Ecstatic, he ran to her.

"You can do magic now?" he implored.

"What, this? No, I was a Girl Scout when I was younger so I know how to make a fire without magic."

"Girl Scout?" he asked incredulously.

"It's this thing young muggle girls do. They learn skills such as making a fire and how to survive in the wilderness. Cooking, manners, volunteering…"

"Alright, I get the point. You don't need to talk my whole damn ear off," he replied scathingly.

She gave him a withering look and went back to poking at the fire with a stick. Draco found a rock further away from Granger and leaned against it. He popped the berries in his mouth one by one drawing a longing look from the bushy haired freak. If she thought she was getting one, she was denser than he had thought. But she said nothing and eventually looked away to gaze into the flames once more. He finished off the last berry with a smacking of his lips earning a revolting glare from the lioness. He smirked his trademark smirk, highly enjoying himself. He felt much better now that he had something in his system.

"Well, I guess I'll just hit the sack then."

She didn't even look up. He was hoping she would get the hint and go to sleep as well, but she didn't seem inclined to.

"We'll be getting up early and I'm not going to wait on your arse. You should probably get some rest too."

Nothing. She didn't even blink. Shrugging his shoulders he decided he would rest a while and wait for her to fall asleep. Then he would make his move. His eyes grew heavy and closed and before he knew it, he was drifting off.

...

Draco woke suddenly. _Shite!_ He hadn't meant to actually fall asleep! His muscles were sore from the hard ground and dew had seeped through his robes making him shiver with cold. He lifted himself up to see if Granger was asleep. Yes! The dark haired girl was curled next to the dying embers of the fire, soot peppering her black robes.

He could see the sky starting to lighten and knew he had to make his move now. Moving silently, he crept over to her sleeping figure. She was curled in a tight ball, hugging herself for warmth. It was extremely chilly, frost was coating the ground. As he knelt over her he could see that she was shivering. He started to feel bad before he remembered it was her bloody fault they were here in the first place.

Moving slowly, Draco reached his hand into her robes pocket feeling like he was trying to poke a dragon in the eye to see if he minded. But she didn't stir and he could feel the broken necklace. He curled his hand around the pieces preparing for her to wake up and tackle him. But she didn't wake and now he was backing up, he was standing. Well, hell, he had done it!

Grinning like a fool Draco brought to mind the entrance to the Ministry and turned on the spot.

...

 _Crack!_

Hermione woke with a start, her heart racing. What was that noise? She looked over at Malfoy to see if he had heard it too. Her racing heart stopped. He was gone. And she had distinctly heard…

No, it couldn't be. He couldn't really be so daft as to…

But searching around their shoddy camp, she knew with a sinking feeling it was true.

The bastard had Apparated.

...

Draco landed hard and hit something. Moaning in pain, he rolled and looked down at a roughly hewn table. A table? He looked around and groaned.

He was in a house. This wasn't the secret loo entrance he'd taken a dozen times at all. He heard yelling and turned around just as a man tackled him from the back. He had one fleeting thought that he wished he could use his wand before his world went black.

...

Hermione quickly tread on the last of the embers, covering them with dirt. She didn't want to start a forest fire in her haste. It was still very dark, although from the sky she could tell that morning was on its way.

She shivered in the intense cold. Damn Malfoy! Why didn't he listen to her? Why did he have to be such a…a Slytherin?! He could be anywhere! Her heart hammered with fear. All they had seen so far were trees and grass. Not a cottage, a store, or any civilization. She had no idea what to expect when she got to London, which is where she figured he had gone. If not, well she had no idea what she was going to do. She would just have to leave without him. But she couldn't go without at least trying…

Jogging a little in her haste, Hermione started forward, muttering under her breath. She was exhausted, starving, her head was still throbbing from her fall. She'd tried to stay up as long as she could, knowing it wasn't smart to sleep with a concussion.

A cold breeze wracked through her thin robes and she shivered harshly. She stuck her hands inside her pockets to save them from the freezing air.

Hermione snapped to a halt so quickly her neck wrenched. The necklace! Had she dropped it? She searched all around but she didn't fool herself. She gave a cursory glance to just to make sure but she knew.

Malfoy had taken it.

Cursing him with every word she could think of she started running towards London.

...

XOXO

RynStar15


	4. Chapter 4

Draco moaned. His head was killing him. He lifted a hand to his skull and realized that his hand hurt too. What the bloody hell was going on? Where was he?

Groaning, he pushed himself up to a sitting position and grabbed his head when it started swimming.

"Don' make any sudden moves, boyle. We'll stab ya right through we will."

Draco opened his eyes and realized that he was sitting in a dingy cell. The man that was speaking on the other side of the bars was a portly bloke in drab attire. Draco could smell him from here. He remembered what happened, but he wasn't sure what he was going to do about it yet. He had Apparated right into someone's house and he knew that was a restriction of "invasion of privacy" or some sort of shite. He'd barely skimmed through the laws in their sixth year when they'd been taught and it seemed he was now receiving his comeuppance.

"Look, I'm sorry I Apparated into your house- I didn't mean to, I got mixed up. I just passed the test not too long ago you see-"

"Stop yer ramblin' witch! I'll hear nunna it! Yer gunna get yer due ye are!"

Draco scowled at the man's foul language. "I'm not a witch you impudent dunce! Do I look like I have tits to you?"

"I said shut it!" the rotund man smashed the bars of his cell with a menacing looking sword. The sound reverberated in Draco's head and he moaned in agony. He could feel a large bump on the back of his skull where the man from the cottage must have hit him. Once again he felt pain shoot through his arm. Looking down he saw caked blood and a swollen sausage for a hand. His assessed his other injuries. It appeared as though they had done a little more than simply knock him out. They had beat him. His ribs hurt, his shoulder, the left side of his face. It felt like they had taken a sledge hammer to him. What for? He hadn't meant to land in their house. Why were they punishing him so much for that tiny mistake?

"Look, I think we've had a misunderstanding. It was an accident, I didn't mean to land in that man's house. I just got off track a little bit. I don't see why you have to lock me up. How about I not have my father press charges on you and we'll call this whole thing off?"

The disgusting man threw his head back and laughed.

"I don' know what yer on about but yer gettin' what yer kind deserves, ain't no daddy gunna save yeh."

"My kind? Is this because my father is a Death Eater? Are you part of the Order?"

"Mind yer tongue, witch! I don' understand yer nonsense an' I don' want ta haf ta liss'n ter it for da rest ova day."

"Is that when I'm getting released?" Draco asked hopefully.

The man laughed again. "Ya, sure, iffin 'at's what ya wanna call it."

Somehow, he didn't think he'd be going anywhere soon. Draco was starting to get nervous. This could not just be because he had Apparated into a house; this was something entirely different and bigger than he understood.

His entire body throbbed. He heard another person coming down some stairs off to the left and an even larger man stopped outside of his cell.

"I don' right know what yer kind eat but this is wha' yeh get," he proclaimed before pushing a plate of what looked like vomit underneath the bars and a cup of water through the gap. When Draco reached out to take it the man's foot came through the iron rails and smashed his hand into the ground. Draco yelped in pain and wrenched his hand back. The two men laughed uproariously and Draco waited until the bigger man left before he grabbed his "food." He sniffed it a few times. It smelled edible and he was starving so he chowed down with as much grace as he could muster.

He really wished Granger were here to tell him what was going on.

...

Hermione clutched her side where a stitch had formed an hour ago. Her lungs were on fire and her legs were protesting the strain on them. She had been running, jogging, power-walking, never stopping. She had to get to London as fast as possible. It was already mid-day and she knew should be getting close but she still hadn't seen anything but some deer. She could only imagine the kind of trouble Malfoy was getting himself into. Had he told someone about the Time Turner? She certainly hoped not.

She was going to kill him. Although by the time she finally made it to London she wouldn't have the energy to do much more than collapse on him. She was parched, starving, and her whole body felt like jelly. At least she wasn't cold anymore. Today was sunny again and it shone down on her as she covered more ground than she had ever covered in one day. She had never been athletic and this was killing her.

Malfoy was going to die. She would make sure of it.

Twenty minutes of grueling agony later she saw a farm. No surprise there. There was a lot of farming land in this area. Another twenty minutes and she encountered another one. Progress. Half an hour later she began to encounter thatch roof houses. It was she thought. She knew they had gone back in time, she just couldn't be sure of when. She needed more clues, something that could queue her in to the time period, something that she could work with.

Less than a mile later a dirt road appeared off to her right, veering straight toward where London should be. Perfect! This would lead her straight into the city. The welcome sights gave her an extra energy boost and she started jogging down the narrow grooves that constituted as a road. After ten minutes of following the road her heart soared, she could see the city. Cobblestone buildings and thatch roofs and- oh, sweet Merlin.

A castle. Not just a romantic home for the queen, but the old-fashioned castle that housed most of the city. They may have gone back further than she'd thought. This did not deter her however. She was sure she could deal with anything they threw at her. She read so much she figured she could fit in…enough. If only she weren't wearing wizarding robes…

It wasn't long before she approached the entrance and she gasped in shock and delight. A drawbridge lay before her, leading into the city. She couldn't help the small thrill of enchantment she felt at the beauty of the history she was living in. She nearly squealed when she noticed the guards on either side of the drawbridge wore chainmail armor. _Oh, my,_ she thought. This was real. This was really happening. There were really knights in shiny-bloody-armor and she was walking on a drawbridge.

It was so surreal Hermione almost felt detached from her body, like she was just watching herself move through a crowded medieval city looking for Draco Malfoy. The pain in her lungs, side, stomach and head told her otherwise. She was here; she was accidently bumping into a woman in a long wool dress pushing a cart full of animal entrails. Hermione's gag reflex was on high alert after catching a whiff of the bloody organs. She mumbled an apology and continued on her way.

Hermione had no idea where to start looking for Malfoy. He might not even be here. She wandered aimlessly; aware that time was ticking away. If dark fell before she could find him, she would be forced to leave the city and try again tomorrow. She had no money and nothing to barter with.

Hermione began to grow nervous at the curious glances from the dirty people; she knew she didn't fit in. She was wearing black robes which she was glad of because underneath she had a pair of jeans and a tank-top. Judging by the dresses on every woman around her, the jeans would not be well-received She had figured the black robes were somewhat more inconspicuous, although from the glares and scowls sent her way it evidently was not inconspicuous enough. She tried to keep away from crowds as much as for the surreptitiousness as for the horrendous smell. The unwashed bodies around her had her empty stomach roiling. She kept towards the edges on buildings while still craning her neck, peering through the throng of people for a bright blonde head.

Hermione didn't know how long she had been wandering when she came upon what looked like the square. She could see up on a wooden platform a set of gallows with three nooses swaying lightly in the frosty breeze. She shivered. What a horrible way to die. She could also see that they were being prepared for someone, the ropes being tested, the hangman sharpening his sword in case he had to cut them down. Guards were stirring, waiting to escort the prisoner to their death. Crowds were beginning to gather and Hermione decided to use this to look for Draco and catch up on some history.

"Ye hear who they're hangin'?" a woman's voice came from behind her.

She turned to look at the woman. She was pretty, not much older than herself, possibly in her early thirties. Hermione shook her head, refraining from speaking so as not to give herself away.

"A witch. They caught one in old man Gresley's cabin, right outside'a town. Said he tried to make 'im turn to the devil. So Gresley got 'im good and the sheriff came and locked 'im up. Should start any minute now."

Hermione felt sick. A witch. If only they knew what she was she would be hanging from those gallows too. She suddenly feared for Draco's safety. Would he know to keep his head down, to hide his abilities? She wished she knew what year she was in, that way she could consider the danger, but she didn't know how to ask without seeming suspicious.

"Yer not from around here are ye?" the woman asked, her brow raised as she eyed her outfit. Hermione shook her head, pulling her robes further closed.

"I only say it since you don' seem to fit in. Do you come from afar?" She nodded, still not wanting to give herself away with her accent.

"Are ye a friend of the king?" Hermione's heart fluttered. If she knew who was reigning she could hazard a guess at the year.

"Which king do you speak of?" she asked, trying to lower her voice to mask her accent.

"Why, our holy King Henry III! Who did ye think I spoke of?"

King Henry III! That put her in the early thirteenth century! She knew he took over from King John I in 1216 at the age of nine, but couldn't remember when his reign ended exactly. Late 1200's...1270's? It sounded right but it had been so long since she had studied the kings of England that she was rusty on the timeline. She did know, however, that they had begun persecuting witches in the thirteenth century when the Church finally became powerful enough to rule over the Pagan sects.

Hermione was saved from answering the woman's question as the crowd began whooping and hollering. They were bringing out the prisoner. Hermione stood on tiptoe to see over the heads of the crowd. The prison was apparently directly behind the gallows as there was a surge of people headed that way, jeering and throwing old vegetables, stones, and other items at the man the guards dragged out. Her view was blocked so she waited patiently until they brought him up onto the platform. As the man came into view her heart fell into the region of her stomach.

It was Malfoy.

She could see his terrified face, could almost hear him pleading with the guards over the thunder of the crowd. They pulled him unceremoniously up to the middle rope. The mob screamed with joy.

Horrified, Hermione pushed through the cheering citizens, shoving people aside, knocking over several in her haste to get to the platform. Her mind was numb with terror and disbelief. This could not be happening…

"No!" she screamed, possessed. "Stop! _Stop it!"_

People gawked at her incredulously but she ignored them, wrenching her way between the dirty bodies as the guards placed Draco underneath the noose and lowered it around his neck.

"STOP!" she screeched so hard she felt like her throat was being ripped out. But no one was listening. She felt helpless as she was shoved this way and that as people thronged toward the stage.

 _Oh, gods this can't be happening._ She felt as though everything was occurring in slow-motion. Malfoy shook like a leaf as the noose tightened around his throat, blood and scraps of moldy food plastered across his face. The roaring crowd punched the air and shouted obscenities at the witch. The guards sneered at Malfoy's weak attempts to free himself.

Without any idea how, Hermione had reached the platform. The bottom of it came up to her chin but it didn't stop her. She didn't allow herself to think, simply grabbed the edge and wrenched herself up with a strength she never knew she had. She was certain if she had tried any other time she would never have made it, but her hysteria allowed her to do things that would have otherwise been impossible.

The shock of a small woman launching herself onto the gallows wore off quickly and the guards propelled themselves forward to grab her off. She was still screaming "Let him go!" over and over as she heaved herself at a stunned Malfoy. Before she could get to him a guard grabbed her arm, the only thing he could reach. She jerked out of his grasp and clutched Malfoy with one hand while reaching up to tear off the noose with the other. The guard surged forward and hooked his arm roughly around her waist, heaving her away from a straining Malfoy.

Hermione screamed in anguish. She had to get to him; he couldn't die, not here, not now. She fought her captor but she was no match for the burly man.

Malfoy seemed to have gained a new burst of strength from her attempted rescue and broke into action. He kicked out at a guard trying to subdue him, knocking him into another guard who toppled backwards into the crowd, bringing his companion down with him. Hermione could see droves of guards headed towards them and in the back of her mind knew they would never get away. Not without their magic.

She struggled against her restraint, kicking and hitting. Another guard came forth to help and she used both her feet to knock him on his arse. She tried to kick the one holding her in the shins, knees, anywhere she could reach but he kept hold. Out of the corner of her eye she could see Malfoy struggling against his own captors, spurred by her actions, the noose still tied dangerously around his neck.

Hermione knew nothing but to fight. She brought her head back, catching the guard holding her in the nose, causing him to drop her. She fell to her knees and barreled into the guard coming to take her ex-captor's place. The man she felled dropped his sword and Hermione recklessly dove for it. She had no idea how to even use one and it was a lot heavier than she had reckoned. She could hear the crowd screaming in panic, breaking apart at the fight before them, but she gave them no mind, her only thought to get Malfoy as far away from that treacherous rope as possible.

Two men were struggling in vain to control a now raging Malfoy. He yelled as he fought with his legs, his arms still tied behind his back. Hermione charged, dragging the sword behind her, clasping the handle with both hands and bringing it up with all the strength she could muster. The guard closest to her turned just in time as the sword came down, striking his chainmail with enough force to knock him down, Hermione falling forward with the weight of it. She cried out as she wrenched the blade from the man and he screamed in pain as blood spurted from his shoulder.

Swallowing her disgust, Hermione turned to Malfoy and the opening she had created. She swung, emitting a harsh yell at the weight threatening to tear her arms off. She closed her eyes, terrified of what she would accidently hit. She could feel a slight tug and a much harder thud as she toppled with the momentum of the heavy sword, her hands and knees hitting the wood planks of the gallows.

She opened her eyes and realized many things at once. She had miraculously cut the rope, Malfoy was free and kicking back his last adversary, and half a dozen guards were throwing themselves at her. She didn't have time to react when a guard threw himself on top of her, knocking the wind from her lungs. Someone grabbed her throat; another someone was dragging her up. She was surrounded. She felt several fists raining down on her, coming into contact with her face, stomach, arms, anywhere they could get. She tried to fight but knew it was futile; she was no match for these trained men. She just hoped that Malfoy had gotten away.

Hermione was dragged back, the half a dozen guards restraining her. One of them wrenched her arm back and pain consumed her. She could hear herself screaming as she continued to kick but they were pressing in so close that she couldn't move more than a few centimeters in any direction. She almost gave up to the blackness consuming her but she realized that their group was being torn to one side. Her eyes snapped open and she realized that Draco was attempting to pull the guards off her. He had already chucked one into the crowd, who screeched hysterically, and was tugging another one away from her when two more men came up behind him.

"Malfoy, look out!" she screamed before a filthy hand was clamped roughly over her mouth, digging into the sides of her face and suffocating her. She watched as Malfoy swung around to try to take on the other two while she was dragged bodily away. She threw her body this way and that but the furious guards were not to be deterred. She wrenched her head to the side to knock the hand covering her mouth off long enough to shriek "Malfoy, run! Get out!" before she watched helplessly as the hilt of a sword came down on her head.

...

XOXO

RynStar15


	5. Chapter 5

"Hermione. Hermione, love. Open your eyes now."

Hermione could feel the fuzzy edges of consciousness slowly coming within reach. She felt heavy, lethargic, and so, so tired…

And then she felt the pain. Intense, agonizing, all-consuming pain.

"Shh. Hush now, little one. It's alright. I know it hurts, I know, but you must be quiet now."

The woman's cool voice washed over her, comforting. Hermione hadn't realized she'd been moaning but she somehow knew the woman's words were true. She had to keep quiet…there was a reason. If only she could grasp it...

"Nay, do not go back to sleep. Come along now, we must hurry."

Hermione felt herself being lifted gently to her feet and she clutched the arms that held her up as her head swam, pounding something fierce. She opened her eyes blearily and the world slowly fell back into place. A man was holding her upright; Hermione clung to his forearms to keep her balance as her knees threatened to buckle. And beside him was a woman who gazed at her with worry etched in her smooth skin. A woman who looked oddly familiar...

"You're-"

"Yes, I knew what you were the moment I saw you. There's no time to explain now, we must hurry."

It was the woman who had stood beside her in the crowd of the town center, questioning her before they had brought Malfoy out.

 _Malfoy!_

"We have to find Malfoy," Hermione slurred, her tongue thick in her mouth and sore where she had most likely bit it. "Where is he?"

"We are going to get him now," the woman explained calmly. "We have Stunned the guards but they will not stay that way forever. We have to hurry, this way."

The woman led the way out of what appeared to be a cell, the man still supporting her urging her forward. Hermione knew she shouldn't trust strangers, but she felt a stirring deep inside that these were no ordinary people. There was something they exuded that spoke to the deepest parts of her soul. Besides, there was no way for her to escape on her own, and if they knew where Malfoy was...she had no choice but to trust them and follow their lead.

Hermione's wrists burned and glancing at them she could tell she had been chained up. These unknown liberators must have broken her free.

The door to her cell was already open and they hurried down a narrow corridor filled with cells identical to her own. They were in a dungeon of some sort. Hermione shivered in fear and the man who still had a firm grasp of her arm drew her close, supporting her weight as her weak legs trembled beneath her. Every part of her throbbed with pain and her head pounded in agony so intense she found it hard to keep her eyes open. Only the knowledge that Malfoy was close kept her going.

The woman stopped at a door and looked at the lock. Suddenly, it sprang open and Hermione's eyes widened at this wandless display of magic.

"Wait, how did you-? You can do magic?"

"Yes, Hermione. We are witches, just like you."

Hermione eyed the pretty woman wearily. "How do you know my name?"

She nodded into the cell. "He was screaming it when they dragged you away."

Hermione gasped. Malfoy! Hurrying past the witch into the cramped chamber, her stomach churned at the sight that awaited her. His hands were shackled up above his head which was slumped onto his chest in slumber. Hermione knelt beside him and assessed his wounds. His face was a mass of bruises and caked blood, a piece of rotten tomato plastered in his hair which she quickly swept away. One hand was swollen and bloody, obviously broken. His breath was slow and shallow and she nervously put her hand lightly on his cheek, not wanting to hurt him further.

"Malfoy, wake up."

He roused slowly as she spoke to him, the strangers behind her drawing near. Eventually he groaned and opened one blood crusted eye.

"Granger! _Argh!"_ he hissed in pain as he wrenched against the chains in an attempt to get to her. She hushed him and he settled back, his glassy eyes widening, taking in his surroundings.

"You're alive!" he croaked incredulously. "What happened? How did you get away? The last time I saw you-"

"There's no time to explain now," the woman said behind her, coming over to the pair. "The guards will awaken any moment."

Malfoy turned his gaze to the woman and looked at Hermione questioningly. She nodded to let him know he could trust her. He didn't question further just murmured his thanks when the woman ran a hand over the shackles holding his arms to the wall. He rubbed his swollen wrist and pressed his good hand against the wall to get to his feet.

Hermione started to get up and then noticed a hand in front of her. It was Malfoy's. Eyeing him curiously, she hesitantly accepted his gesture and allowed him to pull her to her feet. He looked away as if embarrassed and then looked back at her.

"Thanks for, you know..."

She nodded, stunned that Malfoy had actually thanked her. It was so out of character for him to be appreciative of anything anyone did for him that she was, for a moment, speechless.

"Come, now," the woman bade, leading the way back down the corridor to a steep set of stairs. Hermione's head ached at the thought of having to climb them but forged ahead regardless. At the top she was so light headed that she had to stop for a moment to catch her breath, clutching the wall as her vision swam.

"Are you alright?" Malfoy asked, his good hand on her shoulder, steading her. Hermione froze with uncertainty. Why was he being so nice?

Realizing she was simply staring at him, she nodded and then grasped her head at the movement, gasping in pain. It probably wasn't the smartest thing for her to have done, but she was having trouble finding words through her shock at Malfoy's instantaneous transformation. She felt something crusty along her temple and brought her hand down to inspect. It was then she noticed the amount of dried blood plastered to the right side of her face where the sword had hit her. Her hand shook at the memory, the reality of what the consequences of her actions would have been had these strangers not broken them out of their prison finally seizing her. Seeming to understand, Malfoy placed a his warm, firm hand on her back and gently urged her forward to followed the strange couple outside.

The moon shone bright on a pair of guards lying at their feet, obviously Stunned.

"This way," she beckoned toward a cart waiting just beyond. Hermione looked around and noticed several more guards lying in odd angles all around. Hermione was shocked to realize that these people had fought their way into the dungeons to rescue them. Though still unsure, Hermione felt a warm sense of gratitude towards their rescuers.

"Climb in the back," the man said, his voice soft, gentle. "You can hide under the blankets." The cart was filled a vast array of objects with a small pile of blankets folded in the middle atop a bed of hay. Hermione hoisted herself shakily into the cart and re-arranged the blankets to cover her and Malfoy who had climbed in behind her.

"You must keep quiet, and stay hidden," the woman said, as she lifted herself beside the man at the front of the cart. "If we encounter anyone they must not know you are here."

The two of them nodded and watched as the man took the reins to a pair of horses tethered at the front. The woman sidled up alongside him and arranged her skirts. The man reached behind them and pulled up a thick wool blanket, wrapping it around the woman. She smiled up at him as he snapped the reins and the cart rolled forward.

Hermione turned to her companion. "You seem to be taking this all in stride," she said to him, wanting to break the silence.

He shrugged, winced and said, "I don't really have a choice at this point now do I?"

She shook her head and pulled their blanket up. She was freezing. She watched through a small opening for a few minutes as the mist from their breath rose in the cool night air and mingled together until they disappeared into the night. Her eyes saw everything as they rolled to the drawbridge gate.

"Keep still, now," the woman said. Hermione ducked further beneath the blanket and glanced at Malfoy. It unnerved her to realize he was staring at her.

The cart rolled to a stop and Hermione held her breath. "We have finished our business and wish to retire to our home," she heard the deep timbre of the man's voice call out.

"A little late now, innit?" another man's voice spoke up from further away.

"We had business elsewhere. Let us pass peacefully, Conan."

"O' course, sir," the man said placidly and Hermione could hear the rumble of the drawbridge being lowered. _That was too easy,_ she thought. Then she remembered; the woman was a witch. She had probably Confunded the guard to let them pass. The cart lurched forward again and Hermione fell into Malfoy. He placed a hand on her arm to steady her while she mouthed "sorry." He nodded but did not remove his hand. He was staring at her again. She looked at him questioningly and he slowly lowered his hand down the length of her arm and into the space between them. Hermione shivered, but this time not from the cold. She could feel the trail his hand had blazed on her arm as if it were burned there. Her body warmed and she felt strange. What was wrong with her?

Malfoy turned onto his back and closed his eyes. It was then that Hermione realized how extremely tired she was. She snuggled deeper onto the hay and willed herself to relax. Pain throbbed through her exhausted body but soon the darkness was calling to her and the rumble of the cart, the croak of bullfrogs, and the sound of Malfoy's soft breathing slowly lulled her to sleep.

...

Draco's scattered mind raced. What was he playing at, touching her like that? What was wrong with him? She was the Mudblood for Merlin's sake! He should be disgusted by her very presence, unable to stand the thought of her close proximity. But his mind kept returning to that instant when he had watched her pulling herself onto the gallows as he was about to meet his death. He played over and over how she had fought the guards, kicking and screaming, striking one down with a bloody _sword_ in order to free him.

He remembered how small she had looked compared to them and how fiercely she had fought, eyes bright with fire, her wild hair dancing around her shoulders. He had seen the determination, the fear. Fear for him, _him,_ the insufferable prat who had tortured her and her friends for nearly seven years, the murderous demon who had tackled her back at the Manor. The prideful Pureblood who hated everything about her.

But when he saw the look in her eyes as she fought for him something had changed forever. No one had ever stood up for him as she had done, even going to the length of possibly getting herself killed. She had stood no chance against those guards without her magic and she had to have known that. But the selfless Gryffindor had risked it anyway, risked everything to give him a chance.

He shuddered remembering that sword coming down on her head, her body going limp as blood poured down her face. She'd been hit hard enough to down a cart horse and Draco had screamed and fought as he had never fought before. He had been a maniac as they had pulled her seemingly lifeless body away.

He thought she had died. When they eventually overpowered him and dragged him to yet another cell he had felt the deep, consuming guilt at the thought of the lioness giving her life for the likes of him. He had tortured himself to sleep with the sound of her screams for his release ringing in his head.

But now she was sleeping beside him while they rolled on a creaky cart towards an unknown destination with a couple of medieval witches they had never met before. She had saved his contemptible arse yet again. Gazing at her sleeping form, her face battered and bruised, a deep gash on the right side of her forehead where she could have so easily lost her life, he wondered if she would have gone through it all if she truly knew what he was like, what he had done. Would she still have risked everything if she'd seen how he'd tortured, murdered…?

But of course she would. She was Hermione-bleeding heart-Granger.

Draco sighed into the cold night. He had no bloody idea what he was going to do now. How was he going to get back? He reveled in the quiet around him. No tortured screams from below, no sick laughter from his demented compatriots. He realized he'd lost that subtle burning he always felt between his shoulder blades, like eyes were always on him, waiting for him to mess up so he could be punished again. It was true he was in no less danger here, but it was a comforting knowledge that no one from his time could touch him here.

Draco was finding it hard to wrap his mind around all that had happened recently. It was hard to believe that a mere thirty-six hours earlier he and the young woman beside him had been fighting a war, the two of them on opposite sides of the field. And now they were bundled together beneath woolen blankets, bouncing along some dirt path in some medieval time he couldn't fathom if he tried.

He shook his head, grinning. Life was just full of surprises, wasn't it?

His mind turned these new musings over and over as the little cart jarred along until his teeth were rattling inside his head. His hand throbbed, his shoulder ached, his ribs were sore and his head pounded. He really hoped they had Numbing Draughts in this era.

After what felt like an eternity, the cart slowed and came to a stop. Nervously, Draco reached over and shook Granger awake. Though this couple had freed them from certain death, he still didn't trust them yet and needed to be ready to fight just in case.

The battered girl's eyes fluttered open and her hand went straight to her head which was probably pounding as much, if not more than, his was. He got their attention and lifted his brows.

"Can you fight?" he breathed and her eyes widened. She nodded and her body hardened in preparation. Draco lifted the blanket off of them and a fierce wind smacked him in the face. He saw Hermione shiver harshly and Draco sat up, ready to pounce as the woman come around to the back of the cart.

She eyed their ready stances, one brow raised, but said nothing about it. "Come along, we have much to discuss."

Draco followed Granger off the cart and swiped at the hay that had clung to his robes, taking in his surroundings. The four of them walked to a quaint cottage nestled among the trees, the darkness nearly impenetrable. Not a light glowed save for the moon streaming through grey clouds above. He'd never seen a place so barren so…peaceful. They were obviously far off the beaten path.

They were ushered into the small one room house and the woman lit some candles and the fireplace with a wave of her hand and welcoming heat stole over Draco, warming his frozen body.

"Come, take a seat. We'll clean your wounds."

Draco and Hermione sat at a scrubbed wooden table with four roughly hewn chairs beside the fire. There was a long desk against one wall laden with scrolls, vials and wooden bowls filled with different kinds of herbs. In one corner was a large bed, the quilt neatly tucked in, a cedar chest sat at the foot of it. The entire house was full of shelves that held different objects and mountains of scrolls, dried flowers and herbs hanging from the rafters above.

The woman busied herself at the desk throwing different herbs into a pestle and mortar and grinding them while the man threw more wood into the hearth and hung a cauldron over the fire. He went to a large cabinet and began pulling things out and floating them into the cauldron which began emitting a tantalizing smell. Draco snuck a glance at his companion and was happy to note she was as enchanted by their surroundings as he.

"Milo is a great cook," the woman said with a smile as she sat opposite of Draco with her bowl of salve. She gestured to Draco's swollen hand and he nodded his consent, sighing in relief as she gently massaged the magical paste onto it. A light buzzing filled his ear and warmth flooded his body so intense he felt lightheaded, as if he'd had a few glasses of Firewhiskey. This stuff was _good._

"Who are you?" Granger piped up, her voice hoarse. The woman smiled and let out a small tinkling laugh.

"Forgive me. I am Sari of Glendon, daughter of Dyonisius, granddaughter of Eddricus. This is my husband Milonius of Wymark, son of Bartholomew, grandson of Alvredus, but you can call him Milo. Like you, we are witches."

"How did you know I was a witch?" Hermione questioned, her intelligent eyes wary.

"I could sense it," Sari explained as her hands moved to Draco's aching jaw. "I am a Seer of sorts. My grandmother was the true Seer, my powers are but modest compared to her own."

Draco grinned, thinking about the rumors that had gone around about Granger after she had stormed out of Divination after yelling at Professor Trelawney. Sari gave him a strange look.

"Did I say something amusing? You have heard of Divination have you not?"

"Of course. Highly enjoyed the subject myself, though not all of us at this table could say the same," he grinned.

Sari hummed deep in her throat as he turned his smirk to Granger who gave him a withering look. He turned back to the golden-haired woman and she began running her hand over the cuts on his face. He could feel them knitting together, his swollen lip returning to normal size.

"How are you doing that? Magic, I mean," Hermione inquired, obviously still as unable to remain quiet as she had been back at school.

Sari turned to her, confused. "What are you saying? Do you not know the art?"

"No, of course we know magic but we can't do it here."

"Here? Why not?"

Granger shifted uncomfortably, glancing at Draco as if wondering how much she should divulge. "I'm not sure but I think… Well, see, we are not from around here. Well, we are, but not from...here."

Sari looked confused. "I do not understand."

Granger looked at him again and he shrugged. These people had broken them out of jail and were healing them. They might be the only hope they had of returning home.

"We're not from... your time," Granger said slowly as if choosing her words carefully. "You see, we're from the future."

Sari turned to look at Milo who had stopped stirring to gaze at her. They seemed to speak without words.  
"It was as we expected. How far in the future?"

Granger worried her lip then winced in pain. "Really far. About 700 years, if I'm not mistaken."

Sari's eyebrows shot up and her face lit with glee even as Draco's heart sunk at the information. He'd known they'd gone back, but not _that_ far. "700 years? How fascinating! What is it like?"

"Sari," Milo's deep timbre seemed to bring her back to reality and she sobered. "You know we cannot."

"Yes of course, you are right," she said with a sad smile.

"But why not?" Draco asked, realizing as he did so that his words felt thick, his body suddenly tired, but incredibly plait and relaxed. "What could it hurt?"

"We should not know more than what is in our grasp. It leads to temptation. We must stay focused on the here and now," Milo explained.

Draco shrugged, grimacing in pain so that Sari nodded at him to remove his robes and shirt to tend to the bruised appendage. He did so wordlessly, smirking when Granger turned away blushing at the sight of his bare chest.

"You were saying you could not do magic," Sari reminded Granger as she administered the salve, causing Draco to sigh in relief as the aching ebbed. He would pay thousands of galleons for this stuff. "What do you mean?"

"I mean this," she stood and pulled out her wand. She opened her mouth but before she could say anything Milo and Sari rushed towards her crying out.

"No! Don't!" Sari yelled, her eyes wide with horror.

Granger quickly lowered her wand looking harassed and Draco was stunned to realize he'd half risen out of his seat to protect her when the two had leapt forward.

"It is forbidden! You cannot use wands!" Sari explained urgently, both she and Milo still tensed and ready to yank the wand from Granger's blood caked hand.

"Why?" Draco asked.

"It was proclaimed by the wizard Gwendolleyn that witches must not use wands for the fear of being caught," Milo explained calmly, his hands up in a gesture of peace. "Wandlore has been banned throughout the kingdoms, any witch caught possessing one is sentenced to the Unforgivable."

Granger swallowed and tucked her wand back into her pocket.

"An enchantment has been placed across the lands to prevent anyone from using them," Sari explained. "If you wish to perform magic you must do so without. Have you attempted a spell wandless?"

Granger looked discomfited. "We don't typically use wandless magic in the future. I've managed a few simple spells but I haven't perfected it or anything..."

"Then you must," Milo said, his voice gentle but firm. "Even then it is not safe, they have ways of tracking us now. You have come to a very dangerous time for the magical."

Granger glanced at Draco and they shared a concerned gaze. What had they gotten themselves into?

They were all silent for a few minutes as Milo turned back to the cauldron and Sari began her ministrations on his ribs. Granger sat again looking markedly away, obviously embarrassed by his nakedness, a fact Malfoy found incredibly alluring. Slowly, the bruises faded and the pain ebbed. Whatever Sari had put in that salve was pure gold. He'd have to remember to ask for the recipe so he could make it when he returned.

 _If_ he returned…

When Sari was finished with Draco she turned to Granger. "Your turn, love."

She nodded and switched places with Draco, swaying as she stood. He reached out but she righted herself, settling heavily on the seat he'd just vacated. Draco watched as Sari slowly mended the gash on Granger's forehead much like Snape had closed his wounds after Potter had caught him crying in Moaning Myrtle's bathroom. The color seemed to drain from Granger's face as Sari began rubbing the salve gently over her battered face. Draco's eyes narrowed and his body tensed as he watched Granger's eyes begin to roll.

He swore as she careened off the seat. Draco leapt towards up, catching her before she hit the hard wooden floor. Sari fretted, instructing him to the large bed in the corner as Draco lifted the small witch into his arms and carried her to the bed whose covers Sari was quickly clearing. He laid her down gently and stepped back to allow Sari to work on her.

"When was the last time she ate?" Sari asked as she removed Granger's robe from her limp form. Draco felt guilt wash over him as he thought of the berries he had eaten right in front of her, the gruel he'd inhaled in the dungeon. He doubted she'd been able to find sustenance as she'd attempted to track him down.

"Er, it's been a couple days I'm guessing," he admitted, shuffling nervously as the witch ran her hands over Granger, a soft golden light washing over her.

"It's my fault, that salve was too powerful. It uses your own magic to heal; usually it will just make you feel slightly weak for a couple hours, but I didn't realize she'd been so severely drained… Milo could you bring-" she began, but he was already behind her with a vial from the table where Sari had made the salve. Sari gave him another one of those smiles that made Draco feel as if he were intruding on an intimate moment as she took the phial from his hands. She turned to where Draco stood uneasily, unsure of what to do.

"Draco, sit and eat. You will need your strength. You have a long journey ahead of you," Sari said, turning back to Granger.

He hovered for a moment feeling helpless, but he knew nothing about healing and knew Granger was in good hands. At the low rumble in his stomach at the smell wafting from the cauldron across the room, Draco sat and did as he was told.

...

XOXO

RynStar15


	6. Chapter 6

Hermione woke but didn't open her eyes. She was embarrassed. She knew she had fainted in front of Malfoy and two complete strangers and she was beyond mortified at her display of weakness. She was supposed to be getting answers, to be figuring out how to get Malfoy and herself out of this situation and yet here she was, lying on a bed in a room full of people she had just made a huge fool of herself in front of.

 _Get it together, Granger! This is no time to fall apart_. She needed to toughen up, to be strong. She couldn't show her weakness, not here, and _definitely_ not in front of Malfoy!

Hermione ran several scenarios in her head as to the best (and least humiliating) way to rouse, keeping her breath slow and shallow so they wouldn't suspect…

"Come join us, Hermione. There's no reason to be ashamed."

Hermione groaned inwardly. _Lovely._ She had completely forgotten that Sari could read minds. Blushing, she sat up slowly. She still felt extremely weak, but at least she didn't hurt anymore. She couldn't remember the last time she had eaten. And she also felt something else, an extreme need to use the loo. Figuring she couldn't embarrass herself any more than she already had she asked Sari politely where she could relieve herself.

"I'll take you. You can change while we're out there as well."

"Change?" she asked, looking down at her perfectly intact clothes.

Sari lifted a maroon and cream colored dress similar to her own midnight blue one. "You cannot be gallivanting around here in your regular attire. You do not want to bring any unwanted attention upon yourselves."

Hermione glanced at Malfoy for the first time to see what he thought about this proposal and had to slap a hand over her mouth to keep from laughing. It was no use. The giggle bubbled up and out anyway and she slapped both hands over her mouth to stem the mirth. He glared at her which only made things worse and she had to struggle to contain herself.

He had already changed and was wearing a black belted tunic over braise and forest green hose. He leaned back in his chair and crossed his arms over his chest as if daring her to continue laughing. Hermione took a deep breath to control herself, but he looked so much like a blonde version of Robin Hood that she couldn't stand it.

"I'm sorry!" she apologized, gulping in air. "It's just, I didn't expect…" Malfoy's left eyebrow lifted as if urging her to carry on.

"Shall we?" Sari inquired, cutting off her embarrassing display and leading the way out the door. Hermione could feel Malfoy's eyes follow her out and she quickly shut the door behind her, glad to be out in the night and away from his gaze. She felt bad for laughing at him but she couldn't help it. This whole situation was beyond ridiculous and he looked as though he were auditionimg for a Shakespearian play.

Hugging herself against the cold breeze, she trotted next to Sari who led her to the edge of the forest to a little wooden outhouse.

"If you need help with the dress let me know. Do you wear dresses in your time?"

"Yes, of course. They are quite different from your own and women typically wear pants on a day-to-day basis, but we wear dresses for special occasions and such."

"Women wear 'pants?' What are 'pants?'" Sari asked. Hermione pointed to her jeans, realizing for the first time she was no longer wearing her robes.

"Ah! Those rough hose are called pants?"

"Yes."

"Well, I prefer the dress, I think. Those pants look too restricting."

Hermione giggled and took the garment offered her. Closing the door of the tiny outhouse behind her she was plunged into darkness. She set the dress down and looked at what she had to use for her toileting.

It was a hole. A plain dirt hole. Sighing in disgust, she did her business as quickly as possible and realized she had nothing to wipe with. Rolling her eyes she removed her shirt and used that, pledging to burn it later.

Turning to her new garments she stripped off the rest of her clothing and looked over the attire. The dress was simple. There were two parts, a chemise and the over-dress. She slid the plain cream colored chemise over her head and realized very quickly that everything would be too large. Grabbing the over-dress she put that on, too. There was a triangular slit down the middle that opened to show the cream chemise beneath and the front closed together with stays. The material was somewhat heavy and a lot softer than she had originally imagined. The long sleeves would help keep her warm at least. She thought it was all very pretty and was actually somewhat excited to wear it. Then she blushed realizing that she had no under garments. Oh, well, it's not like anyone would ever know.

Folding her clothes, she laid them in a corner of the outhouse knowing she wouldn't be using them again. She stepped out and Sari came forward to do the ties on the front of the dress. Then she waved a hand and the dress shrunk to fit her perfectly.

"You look very pretty." Sari told her pulling her hair out from the collar of the dress and smoothing it. "That Draco is going to have a hard time keeping his eyes off of you, Hermione."

Stunned, she exclaimed "What, Malfoy? Oh, no, it's nothing like that. We don't, er, exactly get along very well, you see..." How was she to explain that in their time, she and Malfoy were enemies? That the entire reason they were here was due to a battle they'd had in the middle of a war?

Sari's eyebrows came together. "You seem to get along well to me. Are you two not…?"

"What? Oh, no! We do not, we're not-no," Hermione said very quickly. Of course he wouldn't think of her like that, Malfoy would never think of her as anything than a dirty, vile Mudblood, worth no more than the scum beneath his shoe. And that was fine, because she thought the same about him.

Didn't she?

"I just thought I felt, well, I suppose I was mistaken," Sari sighed. "As I said, it was my grandmother who was the true seer, not I. Oh well, come along. We still have much to discuss and you require sustenance."

Hermione's heart fluttered. Did Sari just say that she…felt something? From _Malfoy?_ Or from her? And why did she care what he felt about her anyway? He was an annoying git of the worst kind, an obnoxious prat, a disgusting Death Eater. And oh, so incredibly handsome...

 _What is wrong with you?_ She scolded herself. _Look at the way he's treated you, the way he treated Harry and Ron. Think about them._ It was Malfoy's fault she and Harry had been caught in Umbridge's office. It was Malfoy's fault Bill Weasley was scarred when he took Fleur's hand in marriage. It was Malfoy's fault Dumbledore was dead...

But Hermione stumbled over this last part. She knew in her heart it wasn't entirely his fault. From what Harry had told them he had almost taken Dumbledore's offer to come to the right side before Snape had burst in and killed the beloved man. But Hermione knew there had to be a reason the professor had done what he did, knew it couldn't be because Snape was bad. He might be a pompous, oily snake but he wasn't evil. She knew it. Just as she knew that Malfoy wasn't bad. He was simply…misunderstood.

It still didn't matter. She should never think of him in any way other than to pity him for the horrible situation his horrible parents had thrust him into. She would not develop feelings for him or think about the way he had touched her. She was strong; she had to be strong for Ron and Harry.

But for once in her life, she didn't want to be.

As she stepped back into the cottage she looked over at Malfoy. His eyes grew wide and he stilled for an instant, eyeing her hungrily before he smirked and said in his usual drawl. "Nice dress, Granger."

Hermione's breath caught in her throat before she chided herself. Of course he wouldn't see her as pretty even if she was dressed in the most elegant of clothing. She was a Plain Jane as she well knew. She would never be pretty and she was okay with that. Looks had never occurred to her much before and they shouldn't now. She was smart; she didn't need to be attractive. There was no room in this war for romance, only fighting, and it didn't matter what she looked like so long as she could throw a hex with the best of them.

Steadying herself, she went to the table and sat next to Malfoy as Sari went to the cauldron and scooped steaming stew into a rough wooden bowl and set it in front of her.

"We got you to swallow some broth while you slept but you need more nourishment than that. Go on and eat this right up."

"Thank you," Hermione murmured, but a thought struck her and she found she couldn't hold her tongue any longer. "Why are you being so nice to us? Why did you save us?"

Sari sat next to Milo who took her hand and explained. "We are part of a group called The Eripio, the rescue. We help witches who have been exposed return to anonymity. We teach those who wish to learn and help those who require it. There are hundreds of us scattered across the continent, waiting for someone who needs us. My Sari here has a determination to help others, I cannot refuse. My mother was burned at the stake when I was but a wee bairn and from that moment I knew I had to do something to help those who were like me."

"I knew from the moment I saw you that you were one of us," Sari said, glancing at her husband. "It is imprinted upon your aura. I also sensed greatness. I knew you were the one I have been waiting for. We have waited such a long time to meet you."

"Wait," Malfoy said leaning forward. "You've been _waiting_ for us? How did you know we would come?"

"Not you exactly," Sari said. "But we knew that someday we would be there to assist someone of great importance," she smiled. "It was written in the stars long ago. My grandmother used to tell me stories of two great witches who would come to me one day and that I would be the one to show them the way.

"I knew the moment I laid eyes on Hermione that I'd finally found you. There is something about the two of you that exudes greatness. Your powers are incredible and only when you bind together can you unleash the extent of those powers."

"'Bind together?' What do you mean by that?" Malfoy asked, gazing warily at a shocked Hermione.

Sari smiled. "That is something you two will have to figure out on your own. I cannot reveal what your destinies have in store, but I can tell you that they will have an impact on those around you. You are noble witches with goodly intentions. You must look inside yourselves to find the power to achieve those ends."

 _Great, more prophecies,_ Hermione thought, forgetting the food in front of her. Outrage boiled in her chest. She didn't need prophecies, she needed answers, dammit!

"This is all good and well but we can't exactly fulfill our destinies while we're stuck here, can we?" she asked, attempting to stem the irritation in her voice. "Do you know how we can get back home, to our period?"

Once again Sari and Milo shared a long look. Hermione glanced over at Malfoy to see what his reaction to all of this was. His eyebrows were in danger of disappearing into his hair line.

"We know of someone…someone who might be able to help you," Sari finally said slowly.

"Who?" they both said in unison.

Milo leaned one arm on the table, worrying his fingers as if unsure of how much to tell them. "Her name is Alvida Eynon."

Hermione sputtered stupidly. "D-did you say Alvida Eynon?"

They all looked at her in disbelief as Hermione's heart palpitated harshly against her ribs. "Do you know her?" Sari inquired.

"Of course!" Hermione cried exasperatedly. "She-"

She stilled, trying to figure out what she should say. Should she tell these people that Mistress Eynon had invented the Time Turner? Could it affect the future in some way?

"Who is she? How do you know her?" Malfoy pried, grabbing her arm in exhilaration. Hermione worried her bottom lip.

"She…well I know her because she is in books of our time…she is well known…"

"Spit it out already!" Malfoy snapped, incensed.

"She invented the Time Turner!" Hermione declared nervously.

Malfoy looked as though his birthday had come early. "That means she'll know how to get us back!"

Sari and Milo grinned enthusiastically. "Did she really?" Milo exclaimed. "She figured it out? After all this time… She has been working for years! She will be thrilled to know she-"

"Wait!" Hermione cried, suddenly terrified. What if they were too late? Or too early? What if she hadn't figure out how to make it yet? Or worse, what if she was already dead? "What year is it?"

"It is the year of our Lord 1236," Sari replied, looking concerned. "Why, my dear?"

Hermione blanched. This she knew she could not tell them. "I need to know what day it is exactly…"

"It is the twenty-first of October. What is wrong? You look wan," Sari said, reaching towards Hermione who could feel the blood leave her face and wondered if she were going to faint again.

The twenty-first of October. Alvida Eynon was burned in her home on the thirty-first. Ten days. They had ten days to find her.

"We have to find her immediately, there's no time to waste," Hermione said hysterically. "Do you know where she is?"

"Yes of course, she has lived in the same home since she was but a babe. It is a seven day journey, though. You may want to rest here for a while to recoup and learn the magic of our times-" Sari began.

"No, we have to leave tonight, now, as soon as possible," Hermione rambled, rising to her feet. It may be a seven day journey to them but to her and Malfoy, who had never been in this area, it could take longer. She couldn't take any chances. They only had one shot to return home and time was slipping away.

"Whoa, whoa, wait a minute!" Malfoy said, rising as well, his hands up as if to still her. "I'm not trekking across the wilderness in the middle of the night, and certainly not for seven days!" He turned to the older couple. "Can't you just Apparate us?"

"No!" Sari and Milo cried, looking as they had when Hermione had whipped out her wand.

"You cannot Apparate! They will hunt you down!" Sari explained looking frightened at the very thought.

 _"They?_ Who are _they?"_ Malfoy fumed, rounding on them. "You keep saying _they_ but you never tell us who _they_ are!"

"The Trackers," Sari said, sensing their frustration. "They are witches who help the constable find other witches. The constable allows them to go on practicing magic as long as they find him other witches to hang. They are trained to sense Apparition."

"But Malfoy Apparated only yesterday and nothing happened," Hermione said, gazing at them wearily.

Sari and Milo eyed each other incredulously. "I am in wonderment as to how the two of you have not been caught yet. They can follow a scent for days. You must lay low until the scent wears off," Sari said before she turned to Hermione. "That is why I urge you to stay here for a few days; they cannot track you to this place and we can help you if they find you."

"But you don't understand, we don't have time. I can't tell you why, but we have to leave, it is imperative that we get there as soon as possible," Hermione entreated. She had to make them understand somehow without putting them in danger or possibly damaging the future. How could she explain the desperation of their situation without revealing that their friend was to perish in a matter of days?

"I, for one, am going nowhere until you tell me what the fuck is going on. I have been bloody understanding up to this point but I refuse to go wandering around in medieval England with you until you tell me why," Malfoy snapped, glaring at her crossly.

She pleaded him with her eyes to go along with her but he merely raised an eyebrow and continued his stubborn pose.

"Fine, then you can bloody well stay here for all I care! I don't have any inclination to drag your arse anywhere! If you want to stay here forever, be my guest! But I can't, I have to get back! There are people counting on me, people who need me to be there for them, something I'm sure you know nothing of!" Hermione screeched in indignation. From the look on his face she could tell that she had struck a nerve. Well, good riddance! Why did he have to be such an incorrigible arse all the time? Couldn't he see how important this was? Why couldn't he just trust that she knew best?

"I sense that there is something you are withholding. Am I correct in assuming that you are abstaining for our sake?" Sari implored and Hermione nodded. "Very well. Draco please understand that your companion is only endeavoring to protect us. I think it would be best if you both stepped outside to discuss this matter in private?" Sari cooed, soothing the ruffled feathers. Hermione acquiesced.

"Then run along. If you truly believe you must leave at once then we shall gather your provisions while you converse," Sari stated.

Hermione turned to Malfoy who rolled his eyes and strode past her. She followed him several meters until they neared the edge of the forest, far enough away for their liberators not to overhear.

"So?" Malfoy snapped rounding on her. "What is so damn imperative that we have to drag our arses across the country for seven days to see this woman?"

Hermione prayed for patience as she glared at the trying man before her. "As I said, she is the only known creator of the Time Turner. The problem is, days after she made it, she was found out by some men who burned her house to the ground with her in it. Luckily, she had sent the finished project off to a close friend in France before she was killed."

"Alright, and…?"

 _"And_ she was killed on the thirty-first of October in the year of 1236! That's ten days from now! We have no idea what this terrain is like so we need as much of a head start as possible. Even then it's likely she's already sent the damnable thing to France!"

Malfoy cursed loudly and turned away from her, running his hands through his hair in what Hermione was coming to realize as an irritated tic. He paced for a moment seeming to be thinking it over before turning to her abruptly. "Alright. If what you're saying is true, we have about eight or nine days to catch her before she's incinerated, granting you have the day correct."

"I do. There are accounts from several sources, I have researched them all."

"Of course you have," he scoffed, rubbing his neck.

"Go ahead and mock me if you wish, but if I hadn't there is no way we would know how to get home!" Hermione huffed, beyond vexed with the exasperating prat. She was so sick and tired of him degrading of her. Her intelligence was the one thing that was going to get them out of this, damn it!

Malfoy raised his hands in surrender. "Alright, alright don't go getting your knickers in a twist."

"My knickers are not in a twist!" she snapped shrilly, losing any semblance of control over her emotions. "Even if I _was_ wearing any!" She turned to retreat back to the safety of the cottage when Malfoy grasped her arm suddenly and yanked her around to face him.

He was smirking dangerously. "You're not wearing any knickers, Granger?"

Hermione blushed to the roots of her hair, completely mortified. Darn her big fat mouth! Why did she have to go and say something like that? "I-I…"

"You shouldn't have told me that," he growled before his lips were upon hers.

Hermione couldn't move, couldn't think. She was stunned into complete immobility. Malfoy was kissing her, really, truly kissing her. She was unable to respond in any way until he pulled her body flush against his own and she could feel his hard member pressing against her belly. She gasped in disbelief, in shock in…want. She'd never been kissed like this, never been held, never felt a man pressing his need against her. It was so exciting and… invigorating.

Suddenly her entire body was tingling and she was shocked to realize that his lips stirred something deep within her, something dark and dangerous and delicious. She felt his lips move against her own and she was spurred into action, returning the kiss enthusiastically. She didn't know how, she didn't know why, all she knew was that she wanted this. She wanted this very, very much.

He groaned softly as her mouth opened against his assault and his tongue met hers in a heated dance. Her hands lifted of their own accord to grab at his arms, dragging him harder against her body. He responded in like, his fingers digging into her back, entangling in her long hair. She sighed against his ministrations as he dragged her to a place she'd never before ventured, a place she had never thought existed. Her entire world spun down to only the contact she made with him, only the heat he exuded, only the desperation with which he took her mouth.

"Shit!" Malfoy yelled harshly as he flung her away from him, his expression one of panic and confusion. "Damn you!"

Hermione stumbled at his abrupt departure before she caught her balance. Her body was suddenly cold without the warmth of his next to it. She realized that she was shaking. Malfoy was running his fingers through his hair again and looking at her as if she were some sort of odd specimen he had never seen before, one which he wished sorely to be rid of.

Her mind screamed only one thing at her; retreat.

"I-I'm s-sorry," she stammered turning and escaping as quickly as her feet would take her.

...

XOXO

RynStar15


	7. Chapter 7

_Damn it, damn it, damn it all to Hades!_

Why did he have to go and do something stupid like that? What was _wrong_ with him? Kissing Granger was NOT going to make this screwed up mess any better. He _had_ to keep his doltish hormones in check until he could find a hot cunt to fuck, and that was not going to be for a while.

 _You can do this,_ he thought. _You've gone longer than this without lowering yourself to scum like her._

Except that she _wasn't_ scum. Even saying the words in his head felt wrong. Draco was finding it harder and harder to remember why he hated the damn witch so much when at every turn she was surprising him. Coming to his rescue after he'd done a bunk on her, saving him from that cell when she could have easily left him there to rot (and he wouldn't have blamed her if she had). It didn't help that she'd grown since their years together at Hogwarts, filling her new dress with that pert little body, that coquette look in her eyes when she glanced his way. Had she bewitched him somehow?

And that kiss…damn, that kiss. He'd never gotten so hard off such a simple act. But the way she'd moved against him, that supple body pressed against his, her sweet mouth opening to him…

Which led to an even bigger issue. She had kissed him back. She should have shoved him away, slapped him, told him off for his audacity. But she didn't. Hermione Granger had kissed him back.

 _Fuck. Fuck, fuck, fuck, FUCK!_ he chanted furiously as he strode towards the dumb little cottage with its dumb little door and the dumb little flowers the blonde witch must have planted. He needed to calm himself. He didn't want to give away to the others that his insides were twisting themselves uncomfortably.

He took a deep breath and thought disgusting thoughts to help lower his raging member who didn't seem inclined to do anything of the sort. All he could think about were pouty, sexy lips moving against his own and the way she had pressed against him, wanting him as much as he had wanted her...

He groaned down at his aching member. _Damn Granger!_ Why did she have to go and do this to him, fuck with his already fucked up head? Why couldn't she be as repulsive as she was supposed to be so they could just get through this damn mess and back home without Draco losing his mind in the process?

Tucking and adjusting himself into some semblance of order he cursed the stupid hose which revealed much more than his robes would have. What he wouldn't give to burn the whole damn outfit he was wearing. This whole business was a crock.

Fuming, Draco threw open the door of the cabin harsher than he'd intended and scowled at the three witches looking at him from the table piled with heaps of papers and books. Granger looked straight away without making eye contact and peered back at a map on the table that they were all bent over.

Look, see. She was Granger again, not some wanton seductress. Back to normal.

Milo caught his eye and cocked his head to the door behind him, implying that they should go back outside. Draco nearly groaned, hoping he was not about to get a lecture for kissing the Mud-well, Granger. _Dammit…_

Dragging his feet he followed the older, dark haired man back out into the freezing night while the women continued to murmur over the map.

"Did you two have a contention?" Milo asked softly, folding his arms over his chest.

"Something like that," Draco muttered. "Not that it's strictly out of character for us. We're not exactly bosom buddies back in our time."

The man looked at him for a long moment as if he could read his thoughts and Draco wondered idly whether he should practice his Occlumency.

"I don't know what is going on between the two of you, but it would be in your best interests if you lay to rest your antagonism. You're in for a long battle. I'm not just talking about the journey to Mistress Eynon's. Your fate is much greater than you have ever imagined, Draco Malfoy."

Draco didn't like the cryptic message any more than he liked the look in Milo's eye as he'd said it. Dread filled his stomach. "What do you mean by that?"

Milo shook his head morosely. "You'll find out soon enough. Listen to your instincts, they will steer you right in the end. I know your path has not been an easy one, but it will get much harder before the end of all this. You have allowed others to greatly influence your decisions thus far; it is time for you to forge your own path now."

Draco eyed his companion warily. How did this man know so much about him? And how did he know exactly what to say to get underneath his skin?

Milo cleared his throat and adjusted the belt around his waist. "That be not the only reason I called you away from the women."

Draco scoffed. "Something more than your dire warning about my life about to get even more difficult than it already is? Alright. Bring it on, I suppose."

Milo narrowed his eyes seriously. "You need to know what's out there. There are, things...that you may not know about."

What was with his use of the word 'things?' Why did these people find it necessary to be so damn ambiguous all the time? Just get to the bloody point!

"There are people out there…who don't want you to be here. People who will go to any means to get rid of you. Do you understand what I'm saying?"

"People out there want to kill me. Noted. Nothing more than what I'm used to back home."

"These villains are nothing like you ones you have faced before. You are not home anymore, Draco. Our world is very different from the one you grew up in. There are those who want you dead simply for the very blood that runs through your body."

Draco felt an unpleasant jolt as he was reminded harshly that it was exactly that reason he'd nearly murdered Granger the other day. Was it karma that he would now be hunted for the very same reason?

"Right, got it. Watch my back."

"Yes, very carefully. Trust no one but Hermione and members of The Eripio. Tell no one of your secret. Lie low. You will only be going through one town but remember, keep your head down. If you come across anyone, pretend you are a farmer's son. Do not look at anyone too closely and speak only when spoken to. Do you understand?"

"Yeah, I got it, I'm not a bloody first year. I've fought more than enough battles, I think I can manage a trek cross-country," Draco drawled.

"Do not disregard my words, Draco!" Milo said, for the first time raising his voice, his expression hard. "There are evils out there that you do not understand! The Trackers have powers you know not of, powers that no one should have and they will do anything, _anything_ to find their next prey. Heed me. Keep Hermione safe, she is vital in this war, more-so than she'll even imagine."

Draco eyed him. The message about Granger jarred him. All this talk about the war and their role in it, and now he was supposed to guard Granger's arse because she was somehow important? Even though he'd been tasked to murder her? Bloody great.

"I don't think you understand," Draco said slowly. "Gra-Hermione and I…see, we're not exactly…allies…"

Milo was quiet for a moment. "You two were brought here for a reason. It was no accident that you happened here together. Everything you two have been through has brought you to this place. You owe your former life nothing, your future is everything. Set your sights forward, not behind."

Draco scrubbed his face and linked his hands behind his neck, confused and annoyed. He didn't like what Milo was saying to him, didn't like that it seemed to match his own emotions, the ones he hid deep within himself, only taking them out at the wee hours of the morning when he stared at the lonely moon, wishing his life could be different, knowing there was…something more out there for him.

"Why don't we step in out of the chill and try your hand at some magic," Milo suggested at Draco's torn expression. More than happy to leave Milo's wrenching words in the cold, Draco followed him inside where the women were still deep in conversation about their upcoming expedition.

"Now, when it comes to wandless magic it takes more concentration than simply waving your wand and saying the words. You have to _feel_ the power move through you, you have to pull it out and direct it where you desire.

Draco quirked his brow at the older man. "I've had more than enough professors, thanks. I think I can handle it."

"Then show me. Bring me that vial over there, that blue one," Milo said, pointing to the long table filled to overflowing with items. Draco scanned the packed table, but he saw no blue vial.

"Which one?" he asked. Milo smiled. With a wave of his hand he had summoned a vial from the page of an open book on the table. Draco hadn't even seen it.

"You must be keener, more observant. Now, summon that quill."

Draco understood he was being tested. He needed to see everything, not just what was in front of him. Alright, he could do that. He looked at the table, trying to see things other than the obvious. There! The tip barely poked out between the pages of a book. Grinning to himself he lifted his arm and concentrated on bringing the quill to him.

 _"Acc-"_

"No words, Draco. Call it forth with your mind."

Draco scowled. They wanted him to be wandless _and_ wordless?

Concentrating once more, Draco furrowed his brow and attempted to summon the quill.

It didn't budge. Milo tutted.

Straightening himself, he concentrated harder, seeing in his mind's eye the quill flying out of the book and into his hand as Professor McGonagall had instructed at the end of their last year. _Accio quill!_

The quill flew out and into his outstretched hand and Draco grinned as he had the first time he'd made that stupid feather float in his first year. Of course Granger had beaten him to it…

"Good! That's it. Now, what about that red flower?"

Red flower? He looked and looked, but he couldn't see any blasted red flower. _Open your mind, you're a bloody Malfoy!_ Draco swept his gaze over the room again. Aha! There, on a square of the quilt. He steadied himself once more and brought forth an image of the flower coming right at him. _Accio red flower!_ This time, the flower materialized and flew straight into his palm.

"Exemplary! Now what about that black box?" Alright. He looked in crevices, nooks and crannies, in open books, underneath sheaths of parchment but he couldn't find it anywhere. Chuckling, Milo reached out onto the mantle next to him and grabbed the black box on top of it, displayed between two vases.

"Never underestimate the importance of details, my friend, but sometimes the answers," he said nodding across the room. "Are right in front of you."

Following his gaze, Draco saw Granger still bent over the map listening to Sari describe something. Feeling his eyes she glanced over at him. Realizing he was staring at her she quickly looked away, blushing madly. Mesmerized, Draco couldn't. His eyes were glued to her. How had he never realized how exceedingly beautiful she was? With the candle light flickering in her long, wavy hair she looked so soft and womanly. He was shocked by how much he wanted to bury his face in her hair and just smell that scent that was all Granger, to press his lips against her neck and feel her tremble beneath him as he placed hot kisses there.

Draco heard another chuckle and looked at Milo who was smiling at him knowingly. Embarrassed, Draco turned away. He was more than fed up with the ideas this man was putting in his head. What was it this man knew that Draco didn't?

Milo handed him the black box. "Go on, open it."

Draco took the black box from him. It was heavy and a warm tingling met his hands as he held it. There was something exceptionally magical within. Flipping the latch he balanced the box with one hand to open the lid with the other. Inside lay a dark green stone. It was smooth with specks of black and gold peppered over the surface. When he lifted it, the stone was warm, as if it had been sitting in the sun.

"It's a Guardian Stone. Every member of the Eripio has one. Show this to Alvida Eynon and she will know you are someone she can trust."

"Alright. How will we get it back to you after, you know, since we'll be leaving and everything?"

"It is yours. You and Hermione are one of us. You are protectors now."

Draco snorted derisively. "Trust me, I'm anything but."

"Your actions before this night are in the past. It is how you chose to move forward that matters. Do not underestimate yourself, Draco."

Once again, the man made Draco feel uneasy. This man who had died 700 years before Draco was even born had no idea the things he had done, the horrible, unforgivable…

"Milo? Will you ready the horses?" Sari asked from across the room, shaking Draco from his thoughts. The women were apparently finished with their plans and ready to move on to the next task.

"Of course." Milo strode over to his wife and kissed her softly on the lips, the two of them melting together at the contact. Draco glanced at Granger remembering the way she had turned to putty in his embrace. She met his gaze briefly, a look of longing in her dark eyes, before turning away, folding the map before her and tucking it into the pocket of her dress, staring fixedly away from the engaged couple. Milo whispered something in Sari's ear that made her smile then left the three of them to stare at each other.

"Well," Sari began, smoothing her dress with an embarrassed smile. "Why don't you two work on some spells while I gather a few things together?"

Hermione nodded and turned to Draco, pointedly not meeting his eye.

"I saw you doing a few spells earlier..." she said awkwardly, twisting her hands in a nervous motion. "It was good...good."

Draco shrugged sheepishly, as uncomfortable as she at their situation. "It wasn't anything difficult, just a Summoning Spell. Why don't you try?"

He watched as she stood, took a deep breath, and focused on something over his right shoulder. He heard something whiz passed his ear and ducked. Hermione grinned as she caught a plate in her hands. "Twitchy, ferret?"

Draco scowled, remembering that day when Professor Moody had bewitched him into a ferret and bounced him off the ceiling and floor. He'd had nightmares about the little rodents for months...

His scowl only seemed to make her laugh more. The plate zoomed back past his head and onto the table where it had resided.

"Now it's your turn, put out that candle," Hermione said.

They went on this way for a quarter of an hour, the spells gradually getting more difficult. They both struggled with spells involving cursing each other, however, a fact that Draco found unsettling.

When Milo stuck his head in to announce the horses were ready, they both looked at each other.

"Well, I guess this is it," Draco said. Hermione nodded and hurried outside to where Milo was waiting.

...

Hermione hugged herself against the cold as she trudged behind Milo to the stables beyond the cottage. They had to walk a short distance and it was done in silence, no one wanting to say the first word. The two horses were waiting patiently outside the stable pawing the ground and snorting. The mist from their nostrils rose up in white waves, curling towards the deep blue sky dotted with stars. The night had been immeasurably long. Just a few hours ago they had been sitting in dungeon cells waiting to die and now they were about to leave these wonderful people on a quest to find a witch that she had read about and envied.

Sari draped a heavy cloak around her shoulders. "It gets cold out there," she said softly, a sad look in her eye.

"Thank you," Hermione replied smiling up at her. It would be hard to say good-bye to her after all she had done for them. But she knew she had to. They had a long journey and they needed all the time on the road they could get.

Milo finished fastening a leather satchel onto the dark brown mare before he handed Malfoy his own cloak. "We've packed you some things," he explained. "Food, a couple of tools, some essentials..."

"That was very kind of you, thank you," Hermione said standing on tiptoes to kiss him on the cheek. He smiled at her and placed his hand on her shoulder.

"I am sorry our time together had to be so brief. We will miss you both. You will do extraordinary things. Be happy."

Even though she knew she'd only known them for a few hours, Hermione's eyes filled up with tears. "I'm very grateful to you both. Thank you for everything."

Sari stepped up and hugged her close. "Be safe, Hermione. I will pray to the gods that your journey will be swift and fortuitous. Trust in each other. You are stronger than you imagine"

"Have the either of you ever ridden a horse?" Milo asked, cutting into their emotional farewell.

Hermione nodded. She'd ridden nearly every summer with her mother at a stable near her home. She stepped up to the brown mare and petted her neck fondly. She turned to Malfoy and for the first time noticed his expression. It was one of utter dread.

"We're supposed to ride those beasts?"

"Have you never seen a horse before, Malfoy?" Hermione asked, a smile creeping its way up her cheeks. She remembered from Care of Magical Creatures class that he had never been keen on animals of any kind; it seemed this stretched to horses as well.

"Well, not in person, I can't say there were many romping around the manor," he said surly.

"Maybe you should ride with me, then," Hermione suggested hesitantly. She didn't really want him so close to her, not after what had happened, but she knew it would be faster and easier if she didn't have to worry about him being bucked off at any moment.

He looked at her scathingly. "I've been riding brooms since I could walk, I think I can manage a beast."

"Malfoy, they are very different-" she began but he had already stepped up to the black stallion. Shrugging, Hermione turned to her own horse and swung easily into the rough leather saddle. It was extremely different from the one she was used to so she took a minute to adjust herself, realizing quickly that her difficulty came from the fact that this was a side saddle. Sighing, she readjusted. It was definitely not her preferred method of riding, but they would not the taking the animals far.

Hermione looked up when she heard a muffled grunt. She snorted. Malfoy was still attempting to get on top of the black stallion. He was half draped over the beast trying to swing his leg over it and onto the other side. The horse, not appreciating this new method of mounting, was turning in circles attempting to dislodge his inept rider as Milo endeavored to calm the poor creature while Sari shouted instructions at Malfoy.

Suddenly, Malfoy swung up his leg and accidentely kicked the horse in the side who bucked in anger. He fell off the horse and landed forcefully on his back cursing while Milo rushed forward to calm the animal.

Hermione chuckled in amusement. Serves the bastard right. Malfoy glared angrily at her.

"Are you sure-"

"Do-not-start-Granger," Malfoy growled.

She shrugged. If he didn't want her help, it was no skin off hers. So she sat by and watched with amusement as Milo instructed him on how to get on the horse and gave him pointers as to how to ride. Eventually, Malfoy struggled his way to a seated position, his horse looking less than pleased with the proceedings.

Sari smiled up at Hermione who returned it.

"I can't thank you enough-"

"You already have. We were more than happy to assist you. We have been waiting our entire lives for this day to come. I only wish it wasn't over so soon. I wish you all the good fortune in the world, Hermione."

She reached one hand down and clasped it with Sari's. "You too. It's hard to believe that when I go home you'll have been dead for hundreds of years."

Sari laughed. "Oh, don't you worry. I have many happy years ahead of me yet."

"Come Sari, these two need to be on their way," Milo interrupted gently.

Sparing each other one last fond smile, Hermione released her hand and turned her horse toward the trail they were to take.

"You remember the way?" Milo asked.

"Yes," Hermione said. "Besides, I have the map you snuck into the bag in case I get lost."

Milo grinned. "Alright then. Safe journey to you both."

Hermione turned her steed and plunged into the wide path forged through the woods. They would follow this path through the small thicket to the fields behind them. From there they would head south-west until they came to a large forest. There, they would lose the horses and go forth on foot. They would keep south-south-west through the woods until they came to the town on the other side. After going through the town they would come to the River Thames and rent a small skiff and follow the river to a bend where they would get off and walk east, following a road until they saw a small path leading off of it. Her house would be at the end.

Hermione knew where they were going and how they were going to get there, but still she couldn't shake the nervousness that plagued her. She kept glancing back to make sure Malfoy was following her. He was, but at a somewhat slower pace. He kept adjusting and sliding from side to side, unable to hold his seat. Hermione clucked her horse into a trot, grinning to herself when he cursed.

It didn't take long to reach the end of the copse and they emerged into the moon drenched fields beyond. She couldn't yet see the forest on the other side of the rolling hills of muted green, but she knew by glancing at the stars that she was going the right way. She realized by her gaze that the sky was lightening. She was hoping to reach the forest before morning broke, she felt vulnerable in this open country.

They continued to ride in silence, Hermione constantly checking on Malfoy. He slowly seemed to adjust to the rhythm of the horse and stopped sliding around as much but he didn't appear to be enjoying himself. This brought her a little pleasure as she remembered the way he had thrown her off of him when he had kissed her.

Her gut still twisted every time she thought of that. She was so embarrassed about the way she had reacted. She had obviously read him wrong. He didn't want her. Of _course_ he didn't want her. And she shouldn't want him.

But she did. He had made her feel so...warm and...sexy when he'd plundered her mouth as if he were dying of thirst and she was his first drink of water. She'd never felt so…wanted before. And she had quickly realized how desperately she wanted to feel wanted. She longed for someone to need her so intensely that they couldn't control themselves, that they became completely unhinged by her presence. Someone who-

 _Pop!_

Hermione yanked on the reins to stop the horse, her heart pounding in her chest.

Her breath hitched and she was terrified to look behind her, hoping she was wrong. She looked back at Malfoy who was attempting to slow his horse as well and she nearly sighed in relief. He hadn't left her again.

But that meant…

 _Pop! Pop! Pop!_

Hermione looked around her, her senses on high alert. There were men, cloaked in black, forming a semi-circle just behind them, blocking their way back towards Sari and Milo's, towards safety. Hermione's heart caught in her throat as she realized who these men were. The Trackers! But how had they found them?

"Ride, Malfoy!" Hermione screamed at him as he, too, realized what was happening. "Hurry!"

Hermione snapped the reins and dug her heels into her horse. Glancing back behind her she saw Malfoy bouncing on his wild horse trying to keep up with her. She cursed, wishing he had sucked up his damn pride and ridden with her.

 _Pop! Pop!_

Men were chasing them, surrounding them, spells flying around their heads. Hermione focused on one. _Stupefy!_ she thought and he fell.

There was yelling, more men were rushing towards them. Hermione waved her arm and men flew back, away from the horses, crying out at the power of her spell. She heard a strangled yell and watched in horror as a bright blue light hit Malfoy in the chest and he was thrown from the horse to the ground.

"No!" she screamed. Reining her horse around, she galloped to his side and threw herself off the horse, her dress tangling in the saddle. She fell sideways to the ground with a jarring thud next to a moaning Malfoy. She swung her arms again in rage and panic at the men swarming towards them. They fell back once more, giving Hermione the time to turn to Malfoy, attempting to rouse him.

"Come on, Malfoy, _please,"_ she begged shakily, trying to heave him to his feet, but the Impediment Jinx was still in effect and his heavy body flopped uselessly.

She Stunned two more men rushing at them before turning to Malfoy, Levitating him to her waiting horse. She draped him on his stomach across the animal while he groaned in pain. A green light whizzed past her head and Hermione turned to her attacker, knocking him back even as another one rose and took his place. Oh, gods they were never going to get out of this alive!

"Please wake up, Malfoy," she begged hysterically. "I need you-"

She ducked as another spell came from her right and she swung around.

 _Petrificus totalis!_ she screamed mentally at a man rushing them, his arms and legs snapping together. Hermione launched into action before the man even hit the ground.

Wrapping one hand around the reins she slapped the horse to get it into motion. She ran with the animal to get momentum, then, using one hand on the reins and one hand on Malfoy's back to keep him in place, she swung up onto the horse, the skirts proving difficult once more. She fought to keep ahold of the animal while she tried to adjust herself so she wouldn't fall off, the saddle working against her, but she knew she could ride faster with one leg on either side.

One hand on Malfoy, she snapped the reins harshly, calling out to the horse and urging her forward. She pounded along the ground, flying between spells, leaning low for momentum, feeling Malfoy stir dazedly.

Hermione shrieked as someone grabbed her ankle and she kicked out, hitting the man in the face causing him to fall backwards. _Duro!_ she hurled at another man coming from the right of them. He turned to stone, forever frozen in his running stance.

Wishing Malfoy would wake, Hermione cried out as a Stinging Hex hit her in the back, slipping slightly, tightening her grip against the bitter pain. She dug her heels harder into the beast to speed it up. The forest loomed ahead but it seemed so far...

Malfoy finally moved to sit up but she shoved him back down. "Stay down, you'll unbalance us!" she cried.

"I can't see anything-"

Suddenly a man Apparated right in front of the horse. Hermione gasped in fear and pulled quickly on the reins to keep them from plowing into him. The horse screamed in anger to her rough treatment and went up on her hind legs, her fore legs striking the air and consequently, the man in their path. Hermione's arms cried out in pain and she yelled from her effort to keep them seated. She fought to control the terrified animal leaning forward with all her strength and urging the horse back down, pummeling the man on the ground who cried out and then fell silent with a sickening _crack._

Swallowing back bile, Hermione snapped the reins and the horse took off again, but not fast enough. A spell came from her left and hit her before she could duck. The brute force of the painful spell made her careen to the right. Her heart flew to her throat with the knowledge that she would fall off the horse and probably get trampled, but she never fell. Malfoy's arm shot out and grabbed her. He grunted with the exertion it took to pull her back into the saddle. She felt helpless, unable to use any body part to keep her steady while Malfoy's single grip kept her from falling off.

"I've got you!" Malfoy screamed, grabbing her with both of his arms to hold her in her awkward half-off position. Terror seized her completely useless body. "Hold on, Granger!"

When she felt sensation return to her body she scrambled for Malfoy's hand and he yanked her back into place with a yell, keeping a grip on her even as she caught up the reins once more, cracking them against the beast who whinnied in compliance, putting on an extra spurt of speed. Keeping one hand on Malfoy to keep him in place, she laid low onto the horse's neck and rode as she had never rode before.

Turning her head this way and that she set one man on fire, froze another, and Stunned several more while Malfoy took out the ones he could see with his limited vision. The forest was dead ahead, so close she could almost taste it when the horse beneath her was hit with a spell and her legs snapped together, bound by rope. The animal fell, taking a screaming Hermione and Malfoy with her. Hermione hit the ground, rolling with Malfoy in her embrace to keep them from being caught under the horse.

The impact jarred her bones and stole the breath from her lungs. Dazed, Hermione groaned in pain but Malfoy leapt to his feet, reaching down to yank her up, dragging her forward while taking out the attacker who had ensnared the horse. The two teens flew towards the forest pulling each other to the semi-safety of the trees.

Malfoy dragged her behind a massive tree and threw her to the ground when a spell came flying at them. With a wave of his hand silence ensued but for their gasping breaths. Hermione rose shakily to her feet using the trunk of the tree for support as she struggled for air, taking in the scene behind them. The field was littered with men, all immobile with different curses.

Malfoy had one hand braced against the tree gulping in the freezing air, similarly taking in the destruction and searching for more danger. When he saw none, he turned to Hermione and raised his brows and she nodded, indicating that she was fine, simply breathless.

Hearing the terrified whinny of the trapped horse, Hermione darted forward, kneeling beside the horrified creature. She unwrapped the horse with a wave of her hand and the animal rose and took off towards the thicket on the other edge of the meadow where the black stallion was already racing towards.

She looked around at the fallen men around her and waved her hand, yanking them all into a pile where she bound them tightly before banishing them to the cell she'd woken in.

Exhausted, Hermione walked back to where Malfoy stood, sinking to her knees in the dirt and closing her eyes. Her lungs burned and her muscles ached. She knew she would be blossoming with bruises soon but she couldn't think of anything except how thirsty she was.

The water! The bags! They had taken off with the horses! She whirled around and rose to her feet. _Accio bags!_ she cried inwardly towards the horses galloping away. She watched as the two satchels flew towards her. She caught them and laughed in relief. She could feel the adrenaline wearing off and her body began turning to jelly.

She sank back to the ground and fumbled in a bag for the cask of water she knew was in there but her hands were shaking too badly to grab on to anything. The bag lifted off her lap and she looked up as Malfoy reached in and drew out the water. He flipped off the cap and handed it to her. Her eyes caught his in gratitude as she went to take it from him, still shaking like a leaf. He didn't let go of the water and instead knelt down and helped her bring it to her lips for a refreshing drink. When she pushed it away he gulped from it as well and put it away.

"You were amazing out there," Malfoy ground out. He was staring at her in a way that made her wholly uncomfortable, his eyes bright with admiration and…something she could place her finger on. She couldn't think of anything to say so she just glanced away, not wanting to see the way he looked at her anymore.

"You came back for me," he said.

"You sound surprised."

"I am."

Her heart filled with pain for him. Had no one ever cared enough to go back for him? Would his father have just left him? His friends? Hermione knew, without a doubt, that someone would have gone back for her; Harry, Ron, any of the Weasley's, her parents...but what would it be like to know that there would be no one to help her should she fall?

"Malfoy-"

"Thank you."

Their faces were too close; she could feel his hot breath against her cheek. Her breath caught as his eyes darkened, his gaze moving to her lips.

Hermione thought, for one fleeting second, that he was going to kiss her again, her heart thudding in her chest at the idea. But instead, he stood up, slung the packs over one shoulder and held out his hand to help her up.

"Come on, dawn is coming. I want to be well hidden in this damnable forest before it does."

Hermione took his hand and allowed him to pull her up. He smiled at her, an actual smile, not a smirk, and they began walking.

...

XOXO  
RynStar15


	8. Chapter 8

Draco could see the sky lightening between the leaves of the trees above them. The sun would rise any moment, which he was grateful for because stumbling around in a black forest was a huge pain in the ass. They were continuously tripping and getting caught up in unseen branches, Granger's dress becoming a hindrance.

He looked over at Granger. She was dead tired. Her dress had grass stains and mud on it from when she had rescued him. His heart clenched every time he thought about it. She had saved him, _again,_ for he most surely would have been captured and certainly murdered if not for her incredible courage.

It was slightly perverted but he was ridiculously turned on when he thought about the way she had handled the horse and held the men at bay with her magic. She had picked it up so easily, he was floored. He was still having trouble with some of the spells she had done. The first time he'd been able to actually Stun a wizard was when he had dragged Granger to safety. Literally. She'd been like some kind of frenzied warrior princess and he had been worried that she would go for a full-frontal attack on the men after they had brought down the horse.

When he'd first fallen the pain had been so intense that he couldn't breathe, the jinx rendering him completely immobile. He'd felt helpless as she begged him to help her and his useless body had let her down, but she hadn't needed him at all. She'd battled a dozen wizards while still managing to Levitate him to the horse and continue on.

She was hands-down the most incredible creature he'd ever laid eyes on. She had completely enraptured him in just a few short days.

Now, he couldn't think about anything other than shoving her against a tree and ravishing her mouth until she couldn't think about anything but him either. And what had Milo told him? "Trust your instincts?" Well, fuck.

He did.

Draco had her pinned against the nearest tree before he could even contemplate his brash actions. She froze in shock below him but he simply plundered her mouth mercilessly until she kissed him back. It didn't take long, her body seeming to ignite beneath his touch and she arched in to him making him groan like a dying man. She was all soft, warm curves, and that mouth...

He pressed his tongue though her parted lips and explored the cavern of her hot mouth, making her gasp in surprise. Her hips instinctively pressed up against his and he growled into her mouth, driving his erection roughly against her crevice until she gasped.

He was being too abrasive, he knew, but he couldn't stop himself. His hands were on her hips, memorizing the intriguing curve of her, not yet going where he itched to go. He didn't want to frighten her, but _Merlin,_ it was hard to be good when she pressed against him like that, all but purring in pleasure.

What the hell had he ever done to deserve something like this? She had saved his life, twice, and now she was wrapping herself wantonly around him as he took what wasn't his, what could never be his.

This realization had him tearing himself away from her for the second time in just a few hours. Gods, what was wrong with him? Why couldn't he just keep his bloody hands off her? He was a murderous Death Eater, serving a twisted master, and she was a Muggle-born, Harry Potter's best friend. He should hate her, had, until she had thrown herself at guards and gallows to save him.

 _She's not for you._

Draco was panting, his hands flying up to his hair while he stared at a flushed and flustered Granger. She was leaning against the tree, her lips red and swollen, her cheeks pink and her hair wild where he had grabbed at it. She looked mussed, she looked wonderful…she looked confused.

Draco cursed harshly, turning away from her pained gaze. He knew he was hurting her by rejecting her yet again, but he knew it would be easier this way, easier than her waking up with the knowledge that she hated him and had let him take advantage of her while she was vulnerable. He knew he was an arse, a murderer, a despicable creature, but he wasn't a rapist. He wouldn't force himself on her even when she thought she wanted it.

When she was rested and able to think straight, when they _both_ were, they would look at this and know it was absurd. It was crazy. He hated her; she hated him, that's the way it was.

The way it had to be.

Draco said nothing, there was nothing _to_ say. His hormones were out of control, he was overly tired. They had been through a lot in the past couple of days. It was enough to set anyone off.

When he turned back around Granger was begging him with her eyes to explain what just happened, but he couldn't because he didn't know himself. He wished right then that he knew Occlumency so he could see what she was thinking.

"We should, er, probably make camp...we could think better if, er, we...you know rested..." he stuttered. What was wrong with him? He had never been nervous after kissing a girl before. This chit was getting to him worse than he realized.

She nodded jerkily and kneeled by the pack he hadn't realized he'd dropped. She pulled out two small swatches of fabric and charmed them into full sized blankets. She handed one to him wordlessly without looking at him then wrapped the second around herself and laid down, facing away from him.

"I'll take first watch," he said to her back, glad that his voice was back to normal. "Just in case the Trackers come back."

She didn't move or make any notion that she had heard him. Sighing, Draco wrapped the blanket around himself and leaned against a tree. There wasn't much room between all the trees and bushes and he was much closer to her than he'd have liked but he didn't dare move away in case the Trackers did come back. He watched her as her side rose and fell to her breathing. Eventually it slowed and he figured she had fallen asleep. He continued to watch her for much longer until the sun rose and his eyes drooped.

...

Hermione's head spun with everything that had just happened. He'd kissed her. Again. And he'd shoved her away. Again. And she wanted him.

Again.

 _Hurt me once, shame on you, hurt me twice, shame on me._

Shame on her indeed.

She'd drifted off for a bit, exhaustion overtaking her distracted mind, but she woke feeling un-rested. By the position of the sun she knew it was probably mid-morning. She was stiff and sore, every piece of her aching from all the fighting of the last few days, not to mention being knocked off a horse.

Malfoy snored softly beside her. He'd fallen asleep hours ago. She snorted. Some watch he was.

She didn't wake him even though she itched to get moving again. Instead, she leaned against the tree Malfoy had shoved her against only hours before and worried about Harry and Ron and what was happening without her. Were they worried sick about her? Were they dead? Was everyone dead? Had they won? Had they retreated? Had they lost? What if Voldemort was ruling the wizarding world when they returned and she had done nothing to stop it?

Her hatred for Malfoy boiled once again to the surface. This was entirely his fault. If he hadn't broken her necklace they wouldn't be here. She wouldn't be worrying over her friends, wouldn't be fretting over the fact that she'd failed her task, the most important task she'd ever been given. She wouldn't be wondering if Malfoy actually wanted her or just wanted to mess with her.

Hermione really hoped Alvida Eynon was able to fix the Time Turner and send them back so she could set everything straight. She remembered seeing the necklace in the robes she had been wearing when this whole thing began; tucked into the sack Sari had packed. Her clothes were still in the corner of their outhouse, however. It didn't really bother her; she had plenty of clothes back home. If she ever _got_ home that was. If not...well she wouldn't be in need of them anyway.

She was scared they would do something to change the future. The whole step-on-a-bug-and-alter-the-universe sort of thing. She was terrified that they would get back and nothing would be the same, her friends wouldn't know her or Voldemort would be ruling... anything could happen.

She sighed and rolled her stiff neck. She needed to relieve herself, so she got up and walked behind a bush to do her business. She transfigured a rock into tissue and used that to clean herself. She definitely missed indoor plumbing.

When she got back to their little makeshift camp, Malfoy was still snoring away on his back, one hand resting on his chest, the other thrown over his head. She watched him for longer than she should, mulling over her feelings for him. Feelings she knew she shouldn't have but couldn't help anyways. Why did he keep kissing her and then pushing her away? Was he feeling guilty? Dirty for wanting her? Or was he just trying to confuse her? Because if the latter was it, it had surely worked well. As for him feeling dirty for kissing her, that was alright because she felt dirty for kissing him.

Too bad she enjoyed feeling dirty.

Hermione jumped when she realized that the man she had been staring at was staring back at her. How long had he been awake? Had he noticed her watching him sleep like some lovesick fool?

"Er, we should probably get going..." she said, shuffling uncomfortably under his gaze. Why was he looking at her like that?

He pushed lithely to his feet and Hermione's heart fluttered. Even in hose and a tunic he was good looking. She knew how hard his body was underneath it all from when he had pressed against her. Remembering the way he had so suddenly shoved her against that tree made her knees weak. Realizing that she was now the one staring again, she moved to her blanket and folded it as small as she possibly could before remembering she had to bewitch it anyway to fit it into the bag. It took her two tries to make the darn charm work but she finally did and shoved the swatch of fabric mercilessly into the bag. Why was she so nervous?

Malfoy reached into his own bag and dug around until he found what he was looking for. He held out a piece of bread to her and when she took it she noticed her hand was trembling.

 _Dammit, Granger, pull yourself together!_

"Thank you," she murmured. He grunted and took one out for himself before leaning against a tree with his legs and arms crossed. He continued to stare at her as the two of them munched on the dry but delicious tasting bread. Hermione's stomach growled much to her mortification and she turned beet red. Malfoy smirked but said nothing. He finished the bread and lifted the sack with his left hand before hissing in pain and dropping it.

"What? What is it?" Hermione rushed forward to see if he was alright. He clutched at his shoulder. She brushed his hand away and replaced it with her own trying to see where he was hurt. Suddenly Malfoy's fingers wrapped around her wrist and peeling her hand off of him.

"I wouldn't do that if I were you," he growled.

"Don't be silly, I have to see what's wrong," she said trying to take her hand back, but he hung onto it.

"It's fine. Just wrenched it."

"You could have damaged something when you fell," she argued tugging her hand from his grasp. "I just want to look."

As she was already moving the fabric of his long sleeved tunic aside he acquiesced with a shrug which made him hiss in pain again. When she uncovered his shoulder she gasped to see it was blossoming with ugly black and purple bruises. Hermione gently used her fingers to feel the muscle, trying to figure out if he had pulled something. His skin was unbearably smooth and his muscles like steel beneath. She massaged his shoulder and felt a knot as big as an egg but the clothing was getting in the way.

"Malfoy, take off your shirt."

"Well, well, Granger, if you had wanted me to strip for you, you should have just said something."

She glared at him. "Don't be crude. Your tunic is getting in the way and I need to see how bad it is."

"I told you it's fine, now just let it go."

"Fine! Suffer then! See if I care!" she screamed before turning on her heel and heading off into the trees. She didn't even look back to see if he was coming. He was so infuriating! Why did he have to be an insufferable git all the time?

They walked in silence for a long time. The woods became thicker but she knew she had to steer clear of the path so there were more plants to battle through. Hermione stopped every once in a while to check the sun to make sure they were headed the right way. She had to lift her skirts high several times to step over logs or to fight her way through a thorny bush. More than once she had to stop and untangle herself. She thought of the many times she and Harry had had to walk through the Forbidden Forest and they'd had similar problems. She smiled sadly thinking about him, wondering if she'd ever see him again, wondering if he was alright. Was he thinking about her? Wondering where she was? And what about Ron? She knew he fancied her and they had tried to make it work several times, but she knew deep in her heart that it never would. They were just too different.

She was so lost in her thoughts that she didn't even notice the sun starting to sink.

"Granger, do you think we've gone far enough for today? I'm bloody hungry and tired as hell," Malfoy called behind her as she battled with a tree branch which had become ensnared in her long hair.

"Poor baby, you've probably never had to put forth so much effort before in your life," she chided, finally disentangling her waist length locks. She turned to him and smiled condescendingly, pinching one of his cheeks like he was a child. "But you've been such a good little boy today, keeping up with me."

He smacked her hand roughly away from his cheek and scowled at her and she grinned.

"I would be a little more careful who you choose to anger, Granger," Malfoy said darkly.

"What are you going to do, kill me and try to get to Alvida by yourself? We both know you'd never make it," she snapped, allowing her anger at him to get the better of her.

There was a tense moment of silence between them as they stared each other down.

"We walk until sundown," she said tersely and started forward again. They had at least half an hour before then and she wanted to get as far as possible. Once the sun went down it would be far too dark to see where they were going. Besides, the further they were into the forest, the safer she felt somehow. She didn't figure the Trackers would follow their trail this far into the forest but her guard was still up.

Three quarters of an hour later it was too dark to see where they were going anymore. Hermione finally relented and told Malfoy they could make camp in a small clearing to their right, that way they could make a fire to help keep them warm. Her hands were so frozen they were hard to move, her feet like ice blocks in her rough boots.

She started Summoning sticks and bramble for their fire while Malfoy walked to the clearing and started digging into the pack. Hermione turned back to the camp, her arms full, to find Malfoy gone.

"Malfoy?" she called out, looking around for his platinum locks. "Malfoy?" Silence greeted her calls. Figuring he had gone to relieve himself she decided not to worry about it and proceeded to light the fire with a wave of her hand, sighing in pleasure as heat enveloped her.

She heard the _snap_ of a twig from behind her and whipped around, expecting to see Malfoy, but only met darkness.

"Malfoy?" She looked all around, the dark pressing in on her. Her eyes were horrible in darkness and for the first time it really bothered her. Shadows upon shadows overlapped, creating monsters that weren't there.

"Malfoy, if this is some kind of sick joke it's not funny. Where are you?"

Wishing she could light her wand, she struck out into the forest where she'd heard the noise. "Malfoy!" she called. She heard a rustle to her right and walked toward it. "Malfoy this isn't funny anymore! Come out!"

An arm shot out at her and pulled her roughly against a hard body. She cried out but the sound was muffled when a hand clamped itself over her mouth. She struggled, fear clawing at her insides.

"Shh, Granger, it's me. For Merlin's sake, be _quiet!"_

Hermione stilled. Malfoy! His lips were pressed right next to her ear. "Look."

He nodded into the trees ahead of them and she saw movement, but she couldn't tell what it was.

"Trackers," he murmured into her ear. Ridiculously, a delicious sensation stole through her body. He was still holding her tight tightly against his chest.

"I heard them when I went to take a piss. We have to put out that fire. Come on, move!" She noticed for the first time the figure that was moving towards them.

Malfoy took a firm hold of her elbow and dragged her though the trees, dousing the fire as they passed it and yanking her further into the now pitch black woods. So much for the Trackers not following her and Malfoy into the forest.

They tried to move as quietly as possible while keeping an eye on the man moving towards them. Suddenly the Tracker dropped and Hermione turned to Malfoy.

"Good thinking." she whispered.

"Let's get out of here. Come on, before-"

"Gotcha!"

Hermione screamed as she was lifted bodily into the air by a pair of beefy arms. The stench of the man assailed her nostrils and made her feel ill as she fought against him, whimpering as he slapped a dirty hand over her mouth. Malfoy roared and the sounds of a scuffle met her ears as the man turned with her into the woods. She tried to turn to curse him but she couldn't move, her arms pinned painfully to her sides as the man dragged her through the brush. Malfoy was yelling behind her and she tried to see where he was but the man holding her threw her roughly over his shoulder, his pace increasing. She tried to Stun him but the spell was useless. He'd obviously placed some sort of block on her and her heart clenched in terror.

"Take her back to the dungeons, Hugo!" a man said who appeared suddenly to their right as Hermione kicked and screamed, beating the man's back and shoulder in a desperate attempt to escape.

"Malfoy!" she screamed hysterically and she heard him call back some distance behind her.

Knowing her captor was about to Apparate with her she brought her knee against his stomach as hard as she could. He grunted, but it didn't seem to have much more of an effect on him than that and Hermione's heart filled with dread as the man began to turn.

Suddenly, he keeled forward bringing her down with him. Hermione cried out as she hit the forest floor hard and the large man landed on top of her.

She couldn't breathe and pain radiated through her body, she couldn't move, crushed by the limp man above her. A moment later the man was Levitated off her and she gasped, air returning to her lungs. Malfoy was there, rolling her onto her side as she sucked in painful breaths.

"Are you alright?" he asked. She nodded between harsh coughs.

"We have to move. There could be more." He pulled her to her feet and kept his arm around her when she stumbled.

"Sorry, head rush," she muttered. His arm stayed where it was as he pulled her into motion. She stopped, crying "Wait! The bags!"

"Leave them, it's not important."

"But the necklace-"

"I have it. Let's go, I don't fancy a third round with these blokes." His hand clasped hers and he pulled her along as they fought their way through the dark woods. Hermione ached in every bone in her body and the night air turned frigid. She had to fight to keep moving but she didn't want to let Malfoy know how tired she was. So she trudged along a little behind him, her hand still enveloped in his. It was the only warm part on her body.

She wondered nervously why Malfoy had grabbed the necklace. And when. It had been there when she had taken the blankets out this morning so he must have done it sometime after that. But what in the world would make him think of doing that? Had he planned on leaving her? _Again?_ That was preposterous; he had no idea where they were going. Unless...

"Malfoy, did you grab the map?"

"Yes, I have everything important." Her heart sunk. He _had_ planned on leaving her.

They continued on, tripping and fighting through the brush. The dark was consuming, not an ounce of light seemed to penetrate this far in. Hermione had never been scared of the night before, but this dark frightened her. They ran into trees, bushes, everything. After a long while of doing this Hermione pulled Malfoy to a stop.

"We're not getting anywhere. It's too dark. I don't think they'll be back tonight. Let's just stop and rest until morning."

She couldn't see his face but knew he was chewing over what she had said.

"You're right. But we can't chance a fire tonight and one of us will have to stay awake. We'll take turns."

"Yeah, like you did so well this morning?" she teased.

"Shove it, Granger."

"It's probably for the best you stay awake; you'd certainly bring the lot of them down on us with your incessant snoring."

"I do _not_ snore!"

Hermione did an exaggerated rendition of him hacking saws while he protested, shoving her playfully.

She laughed. It felt good. After an entire day of ignoring each other it felt good to banter like this.

She stopped laughing when he drew her into his arms. His face was inches from hers; she could feel the heat seeping into her skin, his breath brushing against her cheek as one long fingered hand cupped her face, brushing back her hair. Hermione couldn't move, she was held in place by the knowledge that maybe, just maybe he did want her.

"You're a siren," he breathed. She sucked in a breath and held it. "I don't know whether to grab you and make love to you until we both die from exhaustion or to run away as fast and as far as possible."

"It doesn't look like you're running to me," she said breathlessly. Was she _flirting_ with him? What was her problem? She knew he would just end up hurting her again.

 _Push him away! Do it! Now, before-_

Too late. Fingers tightened in her hair as his lips descended upon hers, hot and greedy. She moaned in pleasure as his tongue swept between her lips and took hers, dragging her tighter against him. Her arms snaked around his neck, her fingers curling in his fine hair, dragging him further down.

Would she never learn? He'd hurt her so many times before, what would make this time any different? _You're just going to get your heart broken, falling for a guy like him,_ she warned herself. But she couldn't get herself to care when his lips were strolling against her own, leisurely making their way down her jaw to her ear. He kissed the spot right behind it making her moan, her head falling back to give him more room while waves of heat thrummed through her body at his touch. His hot breath caressed the delicate shell of her ear before sucking her lobe into his hot mouth. She gasped and he nuzzled her hair before returning to her neck and traveling to her collar bone. Hermione's fingers tightened their hold against his neck and he made a noise of approval before taking her mouth once more with fervor. She moaned deep in her throat and he pulled her closer to him to show her the evidence of his arousal. Her breath caught when she felt it. It was so large and hard and it made her want more. She pressed her hips harder against his, knowing that somehow, there had to be more.

"Easy," he murmured, his thumbs stroking her cheekbones. She moaned in confused frustration. She had never felt this way before, had never experienced what it meant to feel wanted, to have someone turn her veins to lava, to feel that ache between her legs only Malfoy could relieve.

He continued his assault on her skin, lowering to the cleavage poking out of the top of her dress. He flicked his tongue just beneath it, but not far enough to reach her nipple where she suddenly wanted his mouth.

 _Hermione Jean Granger! What has gotten into you?_ she berated herself. _You are turning into a harlot!_

But he made her feel things she had never felt before, things she'd never even know she'd wanted and right now, she didn't care if that made her dirty, so long as he never stopped.

Her hands ran though his silky hair, down his strong shoulders and beneath his cloak to his masculine chest while he treated her other breast with the same attention. He growled low in his throat when she raked her nails over his nipples and dragged his teeth gently across her skin in reward. She smiled, liking that she could make him react in such a way. It made her feel powerful.

His mouth found hers again and his tongue curled around her own, dancing an exotic dance that made her knees weak. He tightened his grip on her to keep her from collapsing into a puddle, pulling her hips back to his again. She gyrated against him and he growled, nipping her lip, while sparks of electricity shot to her core.

His kisses slowed, easing, until he was simply plucking at her lips in a way that made her sigh in pleasure. His mouth pulled away from hers and he stood there, breathing hard, looking into her eyes.

"I'll take the first shift. Go ahead and lie down," Malfoy said, his voice gravelly. He released her gently, not like the other times when he had thrown her from him. Something had changed and it made Hermione's stomach quiver in confusion.

Malfoy urged her to the ground and she sat, the earth cold and damp. She grabbed a rock, intending to transfigure it into another blanket but he gripped her wrist quickly.

"No magic, I heard them talking before you came up. They tracked our magic, that's how they found us."

"But in the field…we didn't do any magic…"

"I, er, might have cast a Cushioning Charm on my seat-thing. I'm sorry, it was just so bloody uncomfortable!" Malfoy admitted and Hermione giggled.

"You are a terrible rider."

"A terrible _horse_ rider," Malfoy admitted before his voice grew low, his thumb tracing her wrist where he still held her. "There are other things I prefer to ride."

Hermione shivered, and not from the cold air around her. Her nether regions clenched at the thought of Malfoy atop her, taking her, filling her as she'd never been before.

He shifted back against a tree, releasing her and she shivered harder, this time from a harsh breeze which whistled through the trees. She was freezing but she hugged her cloak tightly around herself and lay down on the hard earth, resigned to her fate of a long, bitter night.

Hermione could feel Malfoy's warm body next to hers. He sat stone still as if afraid to touch her. She closed her eyes and tried to sleep, but she was too uncomfortable. She was exhausted, cold, hungry, thirsty, and her entire body was sore. She tried to find a comfortable position but it was no use. The ground was hard and cold and damp from the mist.

"Come here," Malfoy bade. She looked up and took the hand he held out, allowing him to pull her to his chest. He leaned her back against it and wrapped the folds of his cloak around her. He relaxed back against the tree and she snuggled closer into his warmth, sighing as his heat enfolded her.

 _This is wrong, you shouldn't be doing this...don't get close to him...you'll only get hurt._ Even as her mind protested, her body sank into his and ignored it for once.

"Better?" he asked. She could feel the rumble of his voice reverberate in his chest. She realized she'd never been held like this by a man before.

"Much. Who knew you could be so considerate?" Hermione murmured, nuzzling her forehead against his neck.

Malfoy chuckled. "Don't tell anyone, you'll ruin my reputation."

She smiled and sighed. Slowly, she drifted off to sleep.

...

XOXO  
RynStar15


	9. Chapter 9

Draco watched as Granger fell asleep. He knew he shouldn't be doing this, but she had been so cold and miserable and he _wanted_ to. It felt so good to have her in his arms like this, especially after seeing that man attack her... His heart clenched with the image of her being dragged away from him, terrified that he wouldn't get to her in time. When she'd cried out for him he'd been like a madman, slashing down his opponents, killing the man who held her after realizing the bastard was about to Apparate.

Draco wondered what Granger would say if she knew he'd murdered for her, that he would do it again if he had to. He knew she'd simply Stunned her attackers back in the meadow, but rage had filled him at the thought of losing her after everything…

And when they were finally safe he couldn't help but claiming her, allowing her to soothe his rampaging heart. She responded to him as if she was meant for him, as if she, too, felt that spark that was hidden beneath their carefully constructed shields.

He was highly uncomfortable after twenty minutes in this position, the bark of the tree digging into his back and his shoulder aching so bad he wanted to rip it out, but he stayed where he was, his eyes fixed on her angelic face, his ears listening to the sounds of the forests. Crickets sang, owls hooted, bullfrogs croaked. He listened to the wind whistling between the trees, the leaves rustling and Hermione's soft, even breaths. And he was content.

Dear Merlin, he'd turned into a sap.

The minutes turned to hours and Draco was having trouble keeping his eyes open. Eventually, Granger shifted and she looked up at him. He couldn't see her features very well but he didn't need to. He knew the look she would be giving him, the "what the hell do we think we're doing?" look. Well, actually she was such a goody-goody she probably didn't even say _hell_ in her mind. What was that other word? Heck. That was it. She probably said _heck._

He was cuddling with a girl that said heck. His father would tear himself a new one laughing if he knew…

Shit, mother fucking hell! His _father!_ What was he doing? His father was a _Death Eater!_ He would kill the both of them if he knew!

 _This is too dangerous, for both of you. You have to snap out of it, Malfoy. You're a Death Eater, she's part of the Order, it's the way it has to be._

Suddenly, Milo's words sprang to mind:

 _"You two were brought here for a reason. It was no accident that you happened here together. Everything you two have been through has brought you to this place. You owe your former life nothing, your future is everything. Set your sights forward, not behind."_

Was he right? Was this it, the thing he'd always wished for to drag him out of the depravity of his life? Could he and Granger be a part of something bigger than he even realized?

The woman currently occupying his thoughts shifted and Draco eased his arms from the tight hold around her thinking she meant to rise, but instead she turned in his arms. Wait, what the hell was she doing? She was rubbing her tits on him, she was sliding up his body and, oh _Merlin,_ she was kissing his neck...his jaw... _don't kiss her back, don't do it-_

Then her lips were pressing against his, sliding, sucking softly on his bottom lip, drawing it into her mouth and making him groan. How the fuck was she so good at this? Little miss bookworm should not be able to do things like this! Gods, her innocent little body, so warm, and her lips...

He broke. He couldn't help it. What man refuses a goblet of water when he is dying of thirst? He cradled her face between his hands to hold it steady as he worked diligently on her mouth. She tasted so sweet and she reacted so perfectly, whimpering softly and rising to him. He knew he was the first one to taste her this way; she had been so hesitant at first. Now, however, it seemed he had unleashed a beast, albeit a beautiful one with luscious kisses.

Grabbing her tiny waist, he pulled her up to straddle him. Her skirts caused a momentary problem but he grabbed them with a fist and held them until she had settled herself on his lap. It was then, as she pressed against his already raging erection, that he remembered she wasn't wearing any knickers.

She was killing him.

He was so hard by that realization he worried he might pop a vein in his dick. She was looking up at him shyly and he knew with all certainty, he was _definitely_ the first to do this to her. He'd had several virgins, broken them like china dolls on the hardwood. But he didn't want to break her. She was different, not like those other bitches that had used him as much as he had used them. They knew the rules as well as he; get in, get off, get out. But Hermione was so sweetly innocent he knew she would never just give in to anyone.

Reason number two why he shouldn't be doing this.

 _Fuck, who cares?_ There was no one here to see, no one to judge. It felt good, it felt _right._ She wanted him, he wanted her, so why the fuck not?

He dove in, capturing her lips and taking what she offered. She moaned quietly and he smiled. They continued kissing and enjoying each other until Hermione started moving. She rubbed herself against him and he could feel her wetness through his thin hose and he groaned at the thought of how close he was to just slipping inside that wet heat... She was breathing heavily and he _so_ wanted to give her what she needed, but he had to know…

"Draco, please..." she moaned. "I want..."

"What do you want?" he murmured into her ear before biting her lobe gently. She moaned again and ground against him. He pressed his hips to her and she gasped as her head fell back.

"I don't know, I can't think straight," she murmured. Her hands clenched his shoulders, absolutely killing his left one, but he refused to let her know for she might stop if she thought she was hurting him. And he really, _really_ did not want to stop.

"I think I know what you want," he drawled, dragging her lips back to his. Taking a chance, his right hand trailed up her smooth, toned leg, reaching higher and higher while he continued to work her mouth. She stilled when his fingers began to play lazily with the soft skin of her inner thigh. Her breathing turned shallow while he slowly took his hand to her crevice. She gasped into his mouth as he slid one finger languidly between her wet, warm lips. He groaned like a dying man. She was so soft and so wet. _For him._

Hermione stopped moving at all while he continued to explore her nether regions, pulling her tight against him. She rested her head against his neck and gasped again when he stroked her clit. His cock twitched hearing her reaction. She moaned and moved against his hand while he rubbed and stroked her aching nub. Her fingernails dug into him and her quickened breaths blew against his skin. He was so turned on by her reactions he had to fight to keep himself from fucking her right there, reminding himself how innocent she was.

When he moved his fingers down towards her virgin entrance, Hermione shuddered and Draco struggled for control. He slowly swirled his finger just outside, teasing her until she was panting, pressing towards his hand, begging him to satisfy that ache. Ever the gentleman, Draco slowly eased a single digit into her and she moaned. His cock stiffened even more, if it was possible. She was so unbelievably tight and hot and responsive to him.

He worked his finger slowly in and out of her while she strained against him. He gently added another, his other hand moving to massage her breast through her dress fabric and she gasped in pleasure. He moved the two fingers slowly against her, rubbing against that sweet spot that made her jerk in response and he grinned at the knowledge that he was able to make her do that.

She was so tight he was worried even this small act might hurt her. But she moaned even louder so he quickened his pace, working her until her head was falling back, exposing that beautiful neck which he latched onto, feasting on her flesh. She was whimpering and writhing against him and _gods_ he wanted to enter her so bad! He continued to work her, her juices coating his fingers and Draco grew high on her reactions. They were perfect. She bucked against him and he worked his fingers harder into her. She moaned and grasped at him and he could tell she was close. He moved his thumb to her clit and she ground into him, panting.

"Draco... _please..."_

He wished he could see her face better as she rocked against him. Draco moved his free hand to her hip, holding her tight as he pounded into her, rubbing her g-spot furiously along with her clit.

She shuddered, so close to the edge but not allowing herself to go over. He pulled her flush against him, retaking her neck and biting down gently as she groaned.

"Come on, Granger. Come for me. Let it go," he muttered to her, working her furiously. Immediately she cried out and stiffened in his arms, her insides spasming around his digits. Draco growled while he worked her through her orgasm, elated by her bliss. Her hands clamped onto him with alarming strength while she silently screamed, her body jerking against him, her head falling to his shoulder as she rode the tide of pleasure.

When she collapsed he slowed his ministrations, easing her back down as her breathing slowed. Once she'd settled he gently pulled his fingers out.

She watched in amazement as he brought his fingers to his mouth and sucked her juices off them, moaning in delight. She tasted so sweet he wanted to die. He looked down at her flushed face and brought her lips up to him, kissing her slowly, tenderly, before pushing her head to rest against his shoulder while they both got their breath back.

 _What have you done?_

They were silent for a time, neither of them wanting to destroy the beauty of the moment. Eventually, Granger cleared her throat and looked up at him.

"What I was going to say before... _this_...happened, was that it's your turn to sleep," she said shyly. "You need your rest for tomorrow."

He nodded and helped her disentangle herself from his embrace. He stood and began to find a more private place before she called out.

"Where are you going?"

"I'm just going to...relieve myself." He needed to get away from her, and fast, before he did something they would both regret.

"Alright, but don't go far," she said concernedly.

"Yes, mother," he muttered before disappearing into the trees. He walked a little ways before whipping his member out and beating it like there was no tomorrow. He thought about Granger's tight little pussy milking him while her tits bobbed in his face, the memory of how she felt around his fingers fresh in his mind. His hand stroked his aching cock harder and faster while he thought of how she moved against him, the sounds she'd made, the feeling of her clenching around him, knowing it was him who'd made her do that...

He had to balance himself with one hand against a tree while his hips rocked against his hand. His erection strained against him as he imagined slipping into that wet heat, stretching her, hearing her cry out his name as he pounded into her sweet body. Draco jerked and muffled a groan as his orgasm ripped through his body, ropes of white landing onto the forest ground below.

He fell against the tree, shaky from his release. He had never come so hard from masturbating before in his life. And he hated himself for it, knowing that he had thought about Granger while doing it.

This whole damn thing was _absurd._ They had no business doing what they were doing. She was going to get attached, he knew it. The thought both excited and despaired him.

He felt dirty doing those things to her. He felt like he was using her because he knew when they got back home this little fairy tale relationship would never progress. The only time they had was now, in the bloody thirteenth century because back in their time, it could never be. They would go their own ways and have to act like it had never happened. He had to stop now, before he took something from her that he had no right taking. Her virginity belonged to the man she was going to marry because that was the kind of girl she was. She deserved it.

He pissed quickly, wiped himself off, and headed back towards Hermione before she started looking for him.

She was sitting up waiting for him, worry etched in her face. "What took you so long?" she asked.

"Got lost," he mumbled. As his body cooled he felt the cold breeze rack through him. He sat on the freezing ground and looked at Hermione. She probably expected him to say something but he didn't know what to say. Figuring it was better to just leave it alone instead of saying something stupid, he lay down on the ground and closed his eyes. Before he knew it, exhaustion took over and he fell asleep.

...

Hermione hugged herself, shivering. The night was so cold and dark and she felt empty having him so far away after everything that had happened. It had been _amazing._ She had never felt so many things before in her life. But now she felt cold and desolate.

Malfoy had changed again. He'd seemed to be enjoying himself while they were doing, well, _that,_ but now he was hard and distant. Had he changed his mind? Had she done something wrong? She was embarrassed by her reaction, writhing against him like that. Maybe she had turned him off by doing that.

 _Damn him!_ She was sick of the hot/cold, on/off thing! She just wished he'd pick one already so they could focus on it. If he wanted her, they could both enjoy each other while they had it, for she had no falsehoods about what the future would bring. She knew once they got back, _if_ they got back that they would have to break it off. She knew that. So why couldn't they just enjoy what they shared until then?

She sighed. Relationships were so confusing. This was why she had stayed away from them until now.

And what about him taking the necklace and the map? Had he planned on leaving her again? But where would he go? Surely he wouldn't try Apparating after what had happened last time?

She was debating about how to ask him about it when she heard a rustle in the distance.

Her heart stilled and she sat up, looking all around. It was far too dark to see anything. Were the Trackers out there? Had they found them again? Hermione sidled silently to Draco's side, not waking him in case it wasn't anything, but she wanted to be close to protect him should something happen. More rustling. There was definitely something out there. She itched to light her wand but-

Her wand! It was in the pack! A part of her broke at the thought of losing it. It had been such an integral part of her life the last eight years…  
She was snapped back to attention as the crunching of bramble came closer, heading their way. She stiffened, blocking Draco's body with her own. A dark shape came into view, but it certainly wasn't human for it walked on four legs. The closer it came, the surer she was of what it might be, a wolf!

The animal stopped not a foot from her and Hermione didn't even dare to breathe. She heard him sniffing and his nose bent to smell her leather clad foot, growling as he encountered her scent. Terrified, she fought not to pull the appendage back and alarm the beast, hoping it would just turn away if he sensed no danger.

And still, Draco slept on behind her, unaware that she was being accosted by a dangerous animal.

 _Don't use magic, don't use magic,_ she chanted to herself, but when the wolf threw his head back and began to howl she Silenced him quickly, not wanting him to alert others to their location. The beast turned to her, confused, its mouth curled in a snarl.

Suddenly, it leapt. Instinctively, she threw her arm out crying _"Protego!_ " and the wolf hit an invisible barrier and fell back to the ground. He tried again and again and hit the barrier that she held up, her hand shaking like a leaf. Confused and frustrated, the animal eventually turned and ran off.

Hermione sighed and lowered her hand, her entire body shaking. She looked down at Draco and she couldn't believe it.

He was still asleep.

Knowing that she had done magic she was terrified the Trackers would find them. She debated about whether she should wake Malfoy or not and decided not to unless she found reason to worry. He needed his rest. So she wrapped her arms around her knees and watched the night vigilantly until morning.

...

When Draco awoke the sun was rising. He rolled onto his back stretching and felt a body close to his. Turning his head he saw Granger sitting with her arms wrapped around her legs, dark purple circles underneath her eyes. She turned her head towards him.

"You're awake."

"Apparently."

She nodded and looked away. "We should get going then."

Draco stood and stretched some more. The sun had warmed the temperature considerably but he could still see his breath. Granger rose to her feet as well and straightened her dress.

"Why did you take the necklace out of the satchel? And the map?" she asked bluntly, not meeting his eye.

Draco looked at her. What should he tell her? That he didn't trust the precious items in a bag when their entire lives depended on them? It had turned out to be a good idea, hadn't it? Would she believe him?

"I thought that they'd be safer with me," he finally explained.

She nodded slowly, as if she didn't entirely believe him. "Were you going to take off with them while I was asleep?"

He started, taken aback. "What? _No!_ Why the fuck would you think that?"

She shrugged, her head lowering. He was furious. Was that really all she thought of him? As some selfish bastard who would ditch her the moment he had the upper hand?

But what hurt him even more was that she had every reason to worry. Hadn't already he done that once before?

"Look, I'm not going to ditch you again," he said gently. She raised her head to look at him, her eyes hopeful. "I'm serious, Granger. After everything you've done for me…we're in this together now. I just thought they would be safer on me instead of in the bag. And didn't I turn out to be right?"

There was a pause before she spoke, one that said more than her word. "Yes."

She still didn't look like she believed him. It wasn't surprising; he wouldn't believe him either in her situation. He searched for a topic to distract her from her morbid thoughts.

"We should probably find something to eat before we take off. I'm so hungry I could eat a wolf."

She blanched.

"What?" he asked. What had he said?

"Just don't talk to me about wolves," she said. "And we are _not_ going to eat one."

"Alright, alright, it was just a joke. They don't taste good anyhow." She shuddered and he chuckled at her response. He knew about her S.P.E.W campaign, but did she have an S.P.W.W one as well?

"Right then, no wolves," he said and her lips quirked. "We'll split up, but don't go too far, I want you within sight. Maybe we'll find something edible in this damnable forest."

He took off in search of more berries or really _anything_ edible. He was so hungry he wouldn't be picky. He didn't have to go far before he was whooping for joy. Apples! There were apples here!

"Granger! Hey, _Granger!_ Apples!"

He picked off the first one he could grab and bit into it, groaning in delight. It was delicious! He devoured it in seconds before grabbing another and tearing into that one too. He heard Granger running towards him and saw her bushy hair seconds before she barreled into him.

"You found food! You're amazing!" she cried.

He grinned, his arm going around her unconsciously. "Well, I am a Malfoy, am I not?" She laughed and looked up at him. She was so beautiful, all flushed, her eyes glittering. Gods, but he wanted to kiss her...

Instead he pulled himself out of her embrace.

"I'll grab you one," he said, both to give them distance and because he figured she couldn't reach that high anyway. He plucked one from the nearest branch and held it out to her, but she didn't take it.

"Why do you resist what's between us?" she asked and his heart clenched. What should he tell her? That being with her was mortally dangerous? That it was wrong, that they were enemies, and should hate each other? Or that he was already falling for her and was terrified that his cold, lonely heart couldn't stand anymore grief?

He sighed. "Because there shouldn't be anything between us, Granger. We can't go anywhere with this."

"Don't you think I know that? I don't expect promises or forevers. I know when we get back things will change, but why can't we just enjoy what we have for right now?" She sounded angry, and he didn't blame her. The connection that had bloomed between them in just a few short days was undeniable. It flared with an intensity that had every possibility of engulfing them at any moment.

Milo's words barreled into him yet again. They'd come together for a reason, fate had brought them here. It was insane, it didn't make any sense, but it was there, white hot and raging. It was true that in the world they'd left the two of them never had a chance. But here, in this one, maybe things could be different…

She was right, of course she was right. She was _always_ right. Hadn't he even thought about it? They had right now. She even told him that she didn't expect anything, that she understood just as well as he that there could be nothing when they returned...

Draco, raked his hand through his hair, apprehensive. "You should expect promises, Granger. A girl like you needs them."

"Don't you think I know what I need better than you do?" she snapped, her eyes blazing. "I'm not some innocent, ignorant little girl who will break. I know perfectly well what I'm getting myself into. When we get home we'll part ways, go back to our lives and our roles. But right now, for whatever insane reason, I want you, I _need_ you. Don't you feel it as well?"

Draco didn't know what to say to that. He needed her. Not just the sex, but everything. If only he was man enough to tell her that.

"Kiss me, Draco."

He shattered.

Throwing his apple to the ground he enveloped her in his embrace and kissed her, telling her everything he couldn't say with words. He _did_ need her. He didn't know why or how this had happened, how he could go from loathing the sight of her to needing to have her in his arms so quickly. But he wouldn't deny it. Not while they could take what they needed for this short time without having to worry about the consequences. They both knew where they stood. Now, they could just enjoy.

He took what she offered with abandon, showing her how she affected him until she suddenly swayed in his arms. He steadied her and looked into her face. She was pale, her eyes glassy.

"What's the matter?" he asked, as she gripped him with one hand and grabbed her head with the other as her knees began to buckle.

"Just a little lightheaded," she mumbled and he cursed, tightening his grip.

"You need to eat," he said lowering her to the forest floor before he stood and grabbed her a new apple since the one he had dropped was now covered in hungry ants. He watched her take her first bite before grabbing another apple for himself and munching on it, watching her with concern. These last few days were taking their toll. She needed proper sustenance and hydration, _real_ rest, not just nodding off for a couple hours here and there. Their journey had only just begun and already they lost their food and blankets and been accosted twice. How much more would they lose before all of this was over?

They ate until their stomachs no longer ached and tucked as many of the fruit as they could carry into the pockets of Hermione's dress. Her color had returned so he lifted her to her feet slowly, only letting go when she swore she was alright. Knowing they could delay no further, they set off into the woods.

The sun slowly disappeared behind angry grey clouds and soon after the rain ensued. It seemed that old time England was the same as modern day England. The rain came whenever it felt, not caring about those on the ground whom it was drenching. The teens lifted their faces to the sky, drinking in the water greedily and Draco nearly groaned in relief, his parched mouth salivating.

The covering of the trees did little to stem the flow of the flood and soon they were both soaking. Hermione had to lift her sodden dress to walk and he could only imagine how heavy it was. They trekked for hours, the downpour refusing to let up. He cursed it several times as he slipped and slid on the muddy ground. He begged Hermione to stop once but she refused, saying that they had to cover as much ground as possible.

Inclines were murder, going down even harder with the soggy ground. Draco fell on his arse as they slid down a particularly steep hill and Hermione chuckled gleefully while he scowled. It wasn't long before she shrieked and slipped herself, splashing into the mud. They both laughed and Draco helped her up as they chuckled at their mud-drenched appearances.

The mirth was short lived, however, as the two struggled through the sodden forest, exhausted and sore. His whole body was covered in bruises and he once again cursed everything in sight and even some things that weren't.

Night came sooner with the cloud cover but still Granger didn't stop, her fear of not reaching Alvida in time overriding their sorry state. Draco wished he had a watch so he knew what time it was and a compass to know where the hell they were headed. He had no clue which way they were going. It didn't really matter that the clouds were covering the stars because he'd never paid attention in Astronomy anyway. He'd always copied off of Pansy but it was obvious she had no idea what the class was about either because he'd always gotten low scores. Damn pug faced bitch.

Draco was miserable. It was cold, he was sore, he was hungry again and he had to piss. He finally got Granger to stop when he told her the last part. He knew she probably had to as well. So they went their separate ways and did their business. Miraculously, the rain stopped while he was walking back.

"Can we stop now? I'm exhausted and I know you are as well. We won't get much farther anyway. It's too dark to see."

"You're right. Do you think it's safe to use magic?"

"Why? What did you have in mind?"

"The wood is too damp to light a fire. We need to dry it. We have to have a fire tonight or we'll freeze to death in these wet clothes."

He agreed with her and decided it was worth the risk. She Summoned a horde of wood into a pile beside them and they both set to work drying the sticks as best they could. Granger then lit the fire and they sat near it warming their hands against the heat.

"This feels amazing," Granger exclaimed. "We need to dry our clothes or we'll both get hypothermia."

Draco lifted an eyebrow. "Does this mean you're going to get naked?"

She blushed. "Well, I had just thought...I mean I don't think it's necessary to-"

He snapped and grabbed the back of her head with one hand. "Do you know how fucking sexy it is when you're embarrassed?" he said, diving down and placing a searing kiss on her mouth, feeling her unfold beneath him, reveling in it before dragging her to a standing position. He lifted his hand and blew hot air onto her dress which steamed as it dried. It took forever, but she was finally dry and she did the same to him. It was an incredibly erotic feeling, having her hands so close to his body, but never quite touching him.

He was so turned on by the time she had finished that he grabbed her and snogged her senseless. Her arms wrapped around his neck and she strained to meet his kisses. Who knew the Gryffindor Virgin could be so sensual? He grabbed the back of her legs and lifted her into his arms.

A searing pain burned through his shoulder and he cried out nearly dropping her.

"Oh gods, Malfoy! Your shoulder! You shouldn't have done that!" she squealed, wriggling out of his grip.

"You think?" he hissed though his clenched teeth, grabbing at the injured appendage.

"Here, sit down and take off your shirt, I'm not taking 'no' for an answer this time. I think you really damaged something."

He did what she asked because he was in too much pain to fight. She assisted him with pulling his tunic off because moving his arm was so painful he could barely stand it. Her cool hands flew over his skin assessing the damage.

"I think you tore something. I'm not a doctor-"

"A what?"

"A, er, Medi-wizard. Anyway, I have to get this knot out. It's going to hurt..."

"Just do it, Granger."

She started digging into his shoulder where it hurt the most with the pads of her thumbs and he cried out.

 _"Aaargh!_ That's not helping!"

"It will! It just hurts at first!"

"Well hurting is not helping! _Fuck!_ Stop! Good gods, woman, are you trying to kill me?"

"Stop being such a baby!"

He grit his teeth and grunted in pain. Why was he letting her do this to him? She obviously had no idea what she was doing. And he wasn't a _baby,_ it was fucking painful!

By the time she finished he was ready to rip out his hair. His shoulder was on fire.

"Are you done torturing me yet?"

"Yes, I think that's as good as it's going to get. Here. Close your eyes."

"What, you plan on killing me now too?"

"Just shut up and do as you're told!"

He did and he heard her muttering behind him. Suddenly, the pain left. It was incredible!

Draco sighed in relief. Slowly, the pain crept back, but not nearly as bad. It was only a dull throb now. He moved his shoulder and the pain didn't increase.

"How did you do that?" he asked turning towards her. She was grabbing her left shoulder and smiling at him.

"Wouldn't you like to know?"

His eyes narrowed dangerously. "Granger...why are you holding your shoulder?"

She looked uncomfortable. "It's a charm I came across in a book once, I wanted to see if it would work..."

"And this charm does...?"

"Well, see, it transfers the pain from the person who is experiencing it to another individual in order to ease the severity..."

He was furious. "Undo it. Now."

"I can't, I don't know the counter-charm."

"Damn it, Granger! Don't you know better than to do spells you don't know how to reverse? Why would you do something like that?"

"You were in pain!"

"And I could have dealt with it! I've felt pain before. You do know who my father is, don't you?"

She fell silent. He turned away from her. What was she thinking? Why would she purposely give herself pain? It pissed him off to know that he no longer hurting because she was. She'd endure more than enough on his behalf...

"Why don't you try thanking me instead of yelling at me? I did you a favor! You should be grateful, not angry!" she snapped.

 _"Grateful?_ Grateful that you have to be the hero all the damn time? You know, not everyone needs saving. I didn't ask for you to do that."

Her eyes were wide and shining. "Sometimes people do things for other people because it's the right thing to do, not because they were asked to. I _wanted_ to help you. Now, I'm not so sure you deserved it."

She got to her feet and stomped to the other side of the fire. "I'll take the first shift. Get some rest," she snapped.

Thoroughly bashed, he lay on his back and contemplated the mind of a woman.

...

XOXO

RynStar15


	10. Chapter 10

When Draco woke up he could see the sky beginning to lighten. He sat bolt upright realizing that he slept through his shift. He looked over at Granger who was poking the dying fire with a stick.

"Why didn't you wake me?" he asked angrily.

She shrugged. "Wasn't tired. You were."

Draco fumed. "That's bullshit! There is no _way_ you are not tired!"

She continued to poke the fire, ignoring him until Draco snapped.

"Would you leave that damn thing alone? Granger, you have to sleep!"

"If you've had enough rest we should get going. It's almost light enough."

"No. We're not going anywhere until you get some rest. You're not going to be of any use until you do." He was angry at her for not taking care of herself. He was angry at _himself_ for sleeping all night and not taking care of her.

"I'll thank you to keep your opinions to yourself. I'm fine." She reached into her pocket and threw an apple at him. "Here, eat up."

He caught the apple and, because he was starving, bit into it. Just as good as yesterday. But gods, what he wouldn't give for a real meal. He was about to tell her off for not eating but she pulled one out for herself and started in on it.

Good that she can do something for herself, at least.

When he finished the apple she threw another one at him then got up and poured water on the fire from her hands.

"I'm going to go...behind the bushes over there."

He nodded and followed her with his eyes until she disappeared behind some dense bushes. They'd been using magic and he was more nervous than he cared to admit that the Trackers would return and steal her away from him.

He waited for her to come back before getting to his feet and walking over to her. He was tired of them snapping at each other and knew the only way to get back on decent terms was to apologize. He grabbed her arm and turned her to face him.

"Look, I'm sorry for being a git last night," he said with all sincerity. She nodded, but refused to look him in the eye.

"Thank you for your apology."

Draco sighed. "I am sorry for what I said, but that's no reason to keep yourself up all night just to spite me."

"I didn't do it to spite you. I wasn't tired."

He looked at her skeptically.

"Well, alright I was, _I am,_ but I knew I wasn't going to sleep. I just...I have a lot on my mind."

He knew she had probably stayed up all night stewing over their situation and probably Potty and the Weasel. He was secretly jealous of the trio's relationship, the unbreakable bond they'd created. He'd never been that close to anyone, not Crabbe and Goyle or even Blaise for that matter. Sure, they were comrades, but he didn't trust them as far as he could throw them. What would it be like to know that you had someone you could rely on completely, someone who wouldn't push you to become a monster but instead be there when you fell?

But hadn't Hermione taken on that role? She'd _literally_ been there for him when he'd fallen, been there through everything since they'd arrived, even though he'd treated her so horrendously. How could one person possibly be so selfless?

"We should go," she said, snapping him from his thoughts. He stared at her for a long moment, but finally conceded and they left.

They hadn't been walking long before Draco struck up conversation, not able to handle any more of the awkward silence.

"So, how much longer in this wretched forest?"

"Hopefully we'll reach the town by this evening. That's the plan anyway. We were supposed to get a room and actually sleep on a bed tonight but that's not going to happen anymore."

"Why not?" He would love to sleep on a bed for once. And sharing one with Granger wouldn't be so bad either...

"Because we left the money in the bag."

 _Damn!_ Having never experienced the sensation of being poor before he quickly decided he never wanted to experience it again.

"We could just break into a room," he suggested.

"Malfoy! No! That's not right-"

"Oh come on Miss I-Always-Have-To-Do-The-Right-Thing. It's not like we'll be hurting anyone. We'll just be sleeping." Not that he thought he'd get a moment of rest with this alluring witch in a bed next to him.

He could see she was thinking about it. He decided to urge her thought process along. He leaned down into her ear, brushing his lips against it.

"And I'll be giving you more of what I gave you the other night."

She blushed and looked away from him. "You're wicked."

"So they say."

Several minutes passed as she mulled the thought over. "Alright. But we'll have to leave everything the way it was."

"Of course. Not a scrap out of place."

Elated that he'd actually won a battle, he walked along beside her looking forward to what the evening had in store.

Until the rain came again, that was. Then he felt as gloomy as ever.

They trudged along ceaselessly, stopping only once at a small creek to take a refreshing drink from it. It felt so good to actually drink something that was more than a few droplets of rain that Draco's spirits rose once more. In the town they could steal themselves a proper dinner and eat to their heart's content, although he didn't tell Granger about this part yet, knowing she'd balk at the idea of taking something that wasn't hers. Damn chivalrous Gryffindors.

The woods began to thin and Draco was glad of this because it gave them more walking room and fewer things to dodge and jump over. Besides, it must mean that they were close to the town.

"I don't feel so well," Hermione suddenly said, coming to a halt, grabbing at a sapling next to her. He looked over at her and noticed all the color had left her face. He swore harshly, grabbing her arm in case she decided to keel.

"Dammit, Granger! If you hadn't stayed up all bloody night long-"

"Please don't yell at me," she breathed, her knees buckling.

Letting out a frustrated growl he scooped her up and carried her to a slight shade beneath a tree, attempting to get away from the pounding rain.

"Are you alright?" he asked as he sat her down, looking her over.

She shook her head and then put one hand up to hold it still. "Everything's spinning."

 _"Shit._ Of course it is. You haven't slept, haven't had more than a few apples to eat and we've walked who knows how many miles the last couple of days."

She started to keel over sideways but he caught her arm.

"Whoa, whoa. Don't faint on me, alright?"

"Dizzy," she mumbled with her eyes closed.

"Dammit, Granger," he muttered on a sigh. "You need to sleep."

"No, we have to get to the town today," she slurred, her lids heavy.

"We will. Ten minutes won't hurt us." She paused for a moment, then nodded.

"Just ten," she finally said as she tilted dangerously. "But just ten." Before she could fall he pulled her to lay her head in his lap and she did so without complaint. _Women._ Why did they always have to be so difficult?

He wondered if she always did this, worked herself to the point of dropping. Did she ever think of her needs first? He doubted it. And then he wondered if Wonder Boy and Sidekick made sure she took care of herself or if they were too caught up in their own pathetic lives to notice. Draco bet all the gold in his vault at Gringotts that she did everything for them.

He suddenly wished that he could be around to take care of her; make sure she put herself first. He would just have to make sure Potter did it for him when they got back.

He let her sleep as long as he dared. He wished he could let her rest more knowing she needed it, but he knew they had to get moving. They had to get to Alvida in time.

"Granger, come on. We have to go," Draco said softly, brushing her sodden hair from her forehead. She roused but didn't wake.

"Come on, beautiful. Wake up now." Suddenly, she rolled onto her back and opened her eyes to look up at him in confusion.

"Malfoy? What's going on?"

"You practically passed out on me. But we have to get moving. Are you going to be alright now?"

She sat up looking disoriented. She rubbed her forehead. "Yeah. Yeah, I'll be alright. I'm sorry, I don't remember what happened."

"What happened was you have been neglecting yourself and it finally caught up to you," he said bitterly, but desisted when he saw the shamed look on her face.

He stood, reaching out his hand and helping her up. When she got to her feet he realized that he had used his left hand and there was no stabbing pain.

"My shoulder... Granger, it's not hurting!"

She smiled. "That would be a good thing, now, wouldn't it?"

He grinned and kissed her eagerly, glorying in the astonished look he received. "You are an amazing witch."

She laughed. "So I've been told."

He chuckled, wondering how he'd never seen this side of her before, how he'd never heard the beauty in her laugh.

They started walking again, hand in hand, the rain eventually letting up to a drizzle.

"Is yours hurting?" he asked after a while, concerned.

"My what?"

"Your shoulder. Is mine not hurting now because you took the pain?"

"No. That's the little trick to the spell. By separating the source of the pain it heals faster. The chemicals in your body-"

"All I needed was a simple no," he said with a smirk. "You talk too much."

She huffed but one look at his face made her realize he was joshing her. She smiled again. He squeezed her hand and for a few moments, he felt at ease. They talked contentedly about old days at Hogwarts, making fun of Umbridge, discussing which parts of the feasts they wanted to eat the most right now while their stomachs rumbled. They hadn't been walking for long when Hermione exclaimed "Look! That's the town! We made it! We're ahead of schedule!"

She grinned from ear to ear and turned to him, taking his face into her hands. He wrapped his arms around her waist and they just looked at each other for a moment that lasted an eternity. He took in her chocolate brown eyes, her soft skin, her little ears, and the adorable curve to her eyebrows. Her lips captured his and they kissed slowly, drawing out each moment, for he knew the closer they got to their destination, the closer they got to having to go back to where they belonged, and the less he wanted to.

He didn't want to spoil her good mood with his dark thoughts, however, so he let her drag him down the slope to the small village nestled next to the huge River Thames.

"Isn't it odd to think that all this land in our time is London? This forest doesn't even exist anymore. And the River Thames is always clogged with boats and people and bridges. But look at it now, it's so peaceful," Hermione said almost longingly, her sodden hair flopping around her.

Draco didn't have anything to say to it, really. He didn't have the slightest idea why Muggles used things like boats. The only boat he'd ever been in had been the one that had taken him up to Hogwarts for the first time, and it had been unbearably slow. What was the point? He didn't know how Muggles survived without magic.

"So do you think we should just stay here until dark? We don't want to attract any attention and we will if we speak," Hermione said, worrying her bottom lip.

"Nu-uh, no way. I smell food and we are going to get it," he said resolutely, dragging her forward.

"But Malfoy, we haven't any money!"

"That's besides the point. When I want something, I get it, and right now I want whatever is cooking down there."

He pulled her down the hill and into the little town where people in strange clothes strolled the streets with carts and baskets, going about their everyday business. He saw a booth where a man was roasting meat and his stomach rumbled loudly.

"Create a diversion," he whispered to Granger.

 _"What?"_

"Faint or something. I'm going to get us some food."

 _"Draco Malfoy,_ we're supposed to keep a low profile!"

"We will! It's not like they're going to remember for their entire lives that _one_ time some random lady fainted in the square. Come on, just do it, we're both starving!"

She glared at him but he walked away from her, strolling leisurely towards the cart as if he hadn't a care in the world. He didn't look back when he heard people gasping and running towards the little witch who had obviously slumped to the ground. He grinned to himself. He could always count on her.

The man at the booth flew to her side like Draco knew he would. He snuck up to the booth and looked around. No one was watching, they were all surrounding Granger who was still lying on the ground. Draco conjured a leather sack and filled it with the meat and potatoes and carrots the man had been roasting over his open flame fireplace. He slung the sack over his shoulder and walked off around a corner where Granger caught up to him a few minutes later.

 _"Never_ make me do that again!" she scolded. "That was the most mortifying experience of my life!"

"Hey, it worked. And you put on a marvelous performance, my dear," he said touching his lips to hers. "Now let us go find a place to stay for the night and we can get started early on that promise I made you."

Hermione grinned and led the way through the crowd.

...

XOXO

RynStar15


	11. Chapter 11

Hermione took them to the inn Sari had told her about. She knew stealing a room was wrong but she also knew that she couldn't spend another night on the hard ground. Last night she had been so horribly cold and miserable that she couldn't sleep. She had several times wanted to crawl over to Draco and curl next to him for warmth, but her pride had refused to let her. Besides, he had been sleeping so peacefully she couldn't get herself to wake him. She was realizing that probably hadn't been the best idea. She had a vague memory of telling Draco she didn't feel well and then she was waking up with her head in his lap completely confused as to how she'd gotten there. Now, she felt ill. Her stomach churned and her head ached and she felt so lightheaded she was surprised she wasn't weaving like a drunken man.

Draco quickly realized how sick she was feeling and left her to sit against the alley wall of the inn while he searched out an empty room and placed protective charms so they could rest comfortably without the fear of Trackers falling upon them or random peasants finding them. She hadn't been there long when the rain started back up again and she scowled.

 _Well, at least you're getting a shower,_ she mused. She knew she stank and her teeth felt fuzzy from not having brushed them in days. When she got into the room she didn't care if the Trackers caught them or not, she was conjuring a hot bath and a toothbrush. She closed her eyes to the spinning world and before she knew it she was being lifted up into a pair of strong arms. She burrowed her head against the familiar neck and allowed him to carry her to their room. She drifted off again before he even laid her down.

When she awoke the rain was pounding against the roof, night had fallen, and she was covered with a blanket on a soft straw mattress. She opened her eyes and saw Draco sitting at a small table with a single candle in front of him playing shadows over his painfully beautiful face, staring off into space, deep in thought. Hermione sat up and realized she was still damp from the rain, her dress sticking uncomfortably to her and rubbing her skin raw. Draco looked up at her movement.

"Feeling better?" he asked, his eyes full of concern. Hermione was finding it extremely hard recently to recognize this man as the snobby child who had made their lives so miserable at Hogwarts.

"Much."

"Good. Come and eat."

She walked over to the table and sat across from him. He grabbed some things from a bag next to him and laid them on the table in front of her. There were no plates, but she didn't care. She inhaled the cold food, almost groaning in delight. Nothing had ever tasted so delicious before in her life. He watched as she ate with gusto and finished everything he gave her. He slid her a cup she figured he'd found somewhere in the small room and filled it with water, which she drank greedily. She felt like a pig but she couldn't help herself, it was the first meal she'd had in...she couldn't remember how long. She remembered the meal Molly Weasley had prepared the night before the battle, no one actually realizing that the next morning they would be fighting for their lives.

It had been massive, as always, and the table had been lively with conversation. Harry had stolen a few glances at Ginny who had stolen them right back. The twins had charmed a pair of devil horns on top of Fleur's blonde head which made her continually ask "What ees everyone looking at?" Arthur had given the good news of another raise at work and Remus had whispered something saucily in Tonks' ear who had blushed and accidentally turned her hair redder than the Weasley's, knocking over her wine glass with her elbow when she'd reached up at her dyed locks. It had been a wonderful night.

The next morning had turned grey when news of Death Eater activity was caught at the Malfoy Manor. It would be the perfect time to go. And so they went, everyone looking at each other while they all grasped the Portkey that would take them to the Manor. Hermione remembered hearing Remus whisper "I love you" to Tonks just before they'd disappeared and she'd burned with jealousy.

"What are you thinking about?" Draco asked, shaking her from her reverie.

 _Did Draco Malfoy really just ask you what you were thinking about?_

"A lot of things," she answered honestly. "Mostly just home."

His expression darkened. "I bet you have a lot of people worried about you," he said.

She felt guilty for bringing it up. She was so insensitive! She knew he didn't have a solid foundation, a plethora of friends like she had to care about her. "I'm sure your mother and father are worried, too."

He laughed despondently. "Yeah, sure. Bet they have a search party just tearing England apart looking for their beloved son."

"They love you, Draco."

He looked at her almost pityingly. "You'll never understand. Not everything is all sunshine and daises, Granger. Not all parents love their children unconditionally. Our ways are not your own."

 _"Your_ ways?" she snapped crossly. "What makes you so different? Because you're from a Pureblood family and I'm just a stupid Mudblood?"

He stood up so fast his chair fell backwards to the floor with a thud. "No, because I'm from a _Death Eater_ family, Granger," he snapped. "You couldn't possibly comprehend what that entails. They don't love me; they use me for their own sick and twisted purposes. I'm their pack mule, their apprentice. I've been raised to think the way they do, to act the way they do. They've taught me how to _kill,_ Granger. Your mum ever teach you that? Did your dad ever teach you the proper way to torture someone? They're probably _glad_ I'm gone. If you don't recall, I fucked up! I didn't kill Dumbledore like I was supposed to, no matter what you guys think-"

"We know you didn't kill him."

He stilled. "How?"

Hermione took a deep breath. She knew she shouldn't be talking to him about this, but she felt she had to explain, to make him understand that he wasn't alone.

"Harry was there."

"What? No, he wasn't-"

"Yes, he was. He was under an Invisibility Cloak. Dumbledore had put him under a Full-Body Bind, he couldn't move, but he saw everything."

Draco walked across the floor to the window and looked outside, leaning heavily against the panes as if the weight of his life were too much to carry. "So you know. You know I was the one who cursed Katie Bell, who nearly killed Weasley. You know I fixed that cabinet."

"Yes. I know."

He was quiet for a long while. Hermione walked over to him and wrapped her arms around his waist. He flinched at the contact, but Hermione didn't release. "You're not alone, Draco. There are people out there who care about you, who want to help you. We've been hoping you would come to us for help."

He snorted, shaking his head morosely. "Why? It was my fault the Death Eaters where there that night, I let them in, I-"

"I know, Draco, and no one blames you. We all would have done the same in your situation. You were just trying to protect your family. Harry told us how you were giving up, how you were about to come to us before Snape and the others forced you back. We know you never wanted any of this, you never had a choice in the matter."

Draco's head hung and Hermione laid her cheek against his trembling back. "Dumbledore trusted you, _I_ trust you. Come over to our side, I know you don't want to do what they are forcing you to do. It's not too late. We can protect you; protect your family-"

"No," Draco said, straightening and peeling Hermione's hands from him, continuing to stare out into the night, refusing to meet her gaze. When he spoke it was in a broken whisper that shook Hermione to her very core. "You can't save me, Hermione. Not this time."

Hermione's heart sank. She backed away, her eyes never leaving him. She was offering him safety, a family, _herself._ And he was rejecting it all. Tears filled her eyes and she was terrified he would see her cry, her heart shattering for him and selfishly, for the rejection he continuously put her through. She felt the pain bubble up, tears hot on its heels, and she turned away from him, suddenly desperate to be as far from him as possible.

"I'm sorry," she croaked and hurried for the door. She wrenched it open, ignoring his call for her to stop. Hermione fled down a set wooden stairs and through a diner full of people who stared at her in shock on her way out. She could hear him behind her, calling her name, but she couldn't make her feet stop.

She threw herself outside and into the pouring rain running as fast as she could, her feet slipping and sliding on the muddy ground. She had no idea where she was going or what she would do when she got there, but she didn't care, her only thought to be as far away from Draco's presence as possible.

Sobs wrenched from her chest unbidden, her hot tears mixing with the rain beating down on her. Her heart felt as if it was breaking into pieces, the actuality of his refusal tearing at her soul. She'd offered him safety, a chance to get away from his depraved life. She'd offered him herself, her _love,_ and yet he threw it in her face time and again. She'd thought, really truly believed, that he had changed these last several days, that he had come to see that there was more for him than what he'd known. But he didn't want it, didn't want her. The realization hurt more than she cared to admit.

Hermione hadn't gone far when she felt his strong arms wrap around her yanking her off her feet as she cried out, struggling in his embrace while he stood still as a statue, clinging onto her. She yelled at him to let her go, please just let her go, but he didn't. He held fast while she wailed into the night at the unfairness of it all, slumping against him, her body sapped of the will to fight. He lowered her slowly back to her feet, his arms strong around her, and turned her and pressed her face into his chest, holding her so tightly she swore they might simply meld together. The rain lashed down at them as if mocking the two lovers and what they could have shared if only things were different.

But things _weren't_ different. He was a Death Eater, she was an Order member. He was a Pureblood, she was born to muggles. Their situation was impossible. He would never leave his family and she would never stop fighting to stop them. Being the realistic person she was Hermione knew things would never change, but it broke her heart just the same. She'd finally found someone who had made her feel again, who had washed away the numbness of her existence and shown her what it was to be wanted, and he was going to be taken away before he could ever really be hers.

Wishing the moment would never end she wrapped her arms tightly around Draco's torso, pretending, just for a moment, that if she held him hard enough, he wouldn't leave her. His lips were in her hair, one hand cradling the back of her head, the other holding her to him. He whispered "I'm sorry," over and over as if the litany of his words could mend her broken heart. But it was her fault for falling for him and she was angry at herself for letting it happen.

Her sobs eventually slowed but they didn't move, simply stood in the pounding rain and clung to the one true thing they'd found but could not have, his fingers digging in as if that could keep them there, keep them together as the world ripped them apart. Hermione didn't know if it hurt worse knowing he felt the same as she and knowing that it still didn't change anything.

After a time Draco picked her up once again, cradling her like a child, and carried her back to the inn. Draco muttered a Disillusionment Charm on them and bore her up the staircase as if she weighed nothing. He pushed open the door to their stolen room with his foot and closed it the same way, lowering her gently to the floor where she stood rooted to the spot, unable to move. She heard him muttering a Silencing Spell among other protective enchantments to help conceal their presence once more.

When he turned to her the pain in his features undid her once more. Tears ran tracks down her face silently and he stepped forward, his thumbs brushing them away gently. Hermione pressed her face into his rough palm, closing her eyes and simply enjoying the feel. When his lips met hers she didn't have the power to pull away, needing the contact as much as he. When Draco began undoing the laces of her gown, she caught her breath, her heart hammering.

"Give me your hands," he whispered, his voice rough as if it strained him to speak. She looked up into his steel eyes, the pain behind them shattering all thoughts of refusal. She lifted her leaden hands and placed them in his large ones, his fingers curling around them. He brought them to his lips, kissing one, then the other, making her breath stutter. Slowly, he turned her away from him, raising her hands above her head and pulled her dress and chemise off in one long sweep. Hermione couldn't breathe, couldn't think about anything except what he was doing to her as he came up to press against her, his hands spanning her waist, simply feeling her as his soaked clothes bit into her back. He guided her backwards to a tub of steaming water she hadn't even noticed him conjure and lifted her into it.

The hot water stung and hurt at first but she welcomed the pain to her numb body. The tears had stopped but her body shook uncontrollably as she pulled her knees to her chest in an innocent attempt to cover herself, though she knew he'd already seen it all.

She heard the sound of him undressing as well and felt the water rise as he got into the tub behind her. He pulled her back against his chest, his legs coming to either side of her and she was reminded of the position they'd taken in the freezing woods the night before. They didn't speak, Hermione allowing his soft caresses and warm lips on her neck to soothe her, her legs extending slowly, opening herself to him. She heard his sharp intake of breath as he looked down at her, his hands coming up to cover her breasts, a soft moan escaping her lips as he learned the curves of her body. Her head fell back against his shoulder as he stroked her, though never going to the single place that began to burn for his touch.

He continued his gentle explorations for a long while before he lathered her up with a sweet smelling soap he'd conjured and washed her, slowly, methodically. Hermione felt as if she were in a dream, as if she weren't really in her body, but standing beside herself, watching Draco Malfoy bathe her, his touch turning her body into a puddle of nerves and sensation.

He turned his attention to her long hair, using the cup from earlier to cascade it with the now soapy water before lathering it, washing her tendrils almost reverently. When he finished rinsing out her hair he began scrubbing himself but she turned and took the cloth out of his hands and, their eyes locked as she lathered the fabric and began her own explorations of his body.

It was erotic in its own, gentle way. They watched each other watching each other as she slowly drew the cloth over his long arms, leaning down to kiss the Mark on his forearm, feeling him shudder at the contact as she told him wordlessly that she loved him for everything he was. She moved silently to his legs, his muscled torso, his prominent erection. He hissed as she lathered her hands, drawing them slowly over the length, learning the feel, like steel covered in silk. He was large, much larger than her mind had ever imagined, not that she'd spent much time thinking of such things.

She enjoyed the way his fingers curled over the edges of the tub, the cords of his neck straining, his entire body clenching in an effort to remain still. She watched his reactions as she stroked her thumb lightly over the head and he sucked in a breath, his eyes closing, his head falling back on a groan. She repeated this motion until he was whimpering, his hips jerking up towards her small hands.

She slowed her ministrations before running her hands up his tight chest, coming to his shoulders. She nipped at his lips tenderly and he kissed her back lazily. She sat back and grabbed the cup, tilting his head back so that she could wet it before lathering it softly, loving the feel of his fine hair, so different from hers, between her fingers. His eyes were molten as they watched her administer to his golden locks. When she'd finished rinsing out the last of the soap he dragged her to his mouth and plundered, eliciting a soft moan from her lips.

He pulled away and stood, reaching down for her, pulling her up beside him, and wrapping her in a thick towel that appeared out of thin air. He lifted her out of the tub to the bed and laid her down, stretching out beside her and stroking her hair from her face.

"Make love to me, Draco," she whispered, his eyes widening in shock. He seemed to do battle within himself and she waited patiently for him to answer.

"Are you sure?" he asked hesitantly, his expression pained.

She cupped his cheek, easing his doubt. "More sure than I've ever been about anything in my life."

They didn't need the words, the promises they couldn't keep. All they needed were kisses that lasted forever and loving caresses to tell each other what they could never say out loud.

His lips descended upon hers and he drugged her with slow, lingering kisses. His hand rested on the curve of her cheek before trailing down the column of her throat to her collarbone and from there to her shoulder, down her arm to her fingers which he wrapped in his own for a moment before starting back up her arm. Everything he did was slow, methodical, memorizing her body, revering the gift she gave him.

She ached to touch him back, to make him feel the way she did, but his perusal was destroying her, rendering her incapable of doing anything more than enjoy these new, wonderful sensations. So she busied herself instead with his mouth, taking his intoxicating kisses and giving them back, clutching him close to show him what he did to her.

He slowly brought his hand down to the fold of the towel, looking at her as if asking her permission. She nodded and he peeled the towel apart to reveal the rest of her, a blush creeping to her cheeks as he cursed softly.

"Sweet Merlin," he groaned. "You are _beautiful."_

She smiled shyly, having never heard that word used to define her before, the fact that they came from a man who had once teased her for her buck teeth and bushy hair not lost on her. But now he gazed down at her full of longing and desire and she was overcome by how vastly this man had changed. His eyes were full of fire when he met hers again and he leaned forward to kiss her while his hand went to work exploring the rest of her, trailing down to one peak, cupping, brushing over the straining tip before moving to the other. Hermione strained up to meet his touch but he didn't hurry, didn't do more than feel and explore.

He sat back on his heels, his prominent erection standing up before him, and used both his hands to caress her stomach, spanning over it, pulling them down to her hips. She moaned softly when his thumbs stroked the insides of her sensitive thighs but he didn't go where she wanted him to, instead he continued his perusal down her supple legs to her knees, shins, feet. He bent and kissed her big toe, sucking it into his mouth. Her body involuntarily arched off the bed, the feeling so strange and sensual it made her head swim. Then he allowed his lips to follow the same track as his hands, every movement slow and savored, every kiss an adoration. Once again he skipped the juncture between her thighs and moved on instead to her stomach, dipping his tongue into her belly button before moving up to her breasts which he laved, consuming them. She gasped with pleasure, never realizing how incredible this simple act would feel.

The sensation of a man taking pleasure in her body was so amazing and new Hermione couldn't get enough of it. She wanted more. But he ignored her protests, stating: "I want all of you. I want to watch you come undone in my hands, watch you melt under my touch. I want you to know that no one will ever make you feel like this. You will be mine in every way."

Hermione shuddered at his words, trembling as he continued his explorations, completely undone by his admission. His lips roamed her arms, kissing every fingertip. Hermione was a puddle of sensations when he leaned over her to take her mouth again. She never knew she could feel this way, this wanted, this adored. She should be nervous, embarrassed that Draco Malfoy had seen her completely nude, had touched her in ways she'd never been before, but she wasn't. It felt too right. Every fiber of her being knew that he was the one, the only one, who could ever make her feel this way. She was surrendering herself completely to him; heart, body and soul. She was his.

Hermione reached up to place her hands on his upper arms as he continued to destroy her with his kisses. She could feel the bulging muscles beneath the soft, smooth skin. She drew her hands up to his neck and down his chest, her fingers curling in the fine golden hair that peppered his skin. He lifted his mouth from hers and they both watched as her hands traveled to his nipples, circling them with the pads of her thumbs before moving lower. She felt him suck in his breath as her hands moved to his lower stomach, back towards his straining reaction, her body flooding with pleasure at the memory of how it had affected him before. He shifted slightly to allow her easier access and she looked at him, saw the hunger, and dove in. She touched him tentatively, heard his sharp intake of breath and pulled her hand back quickly.

"Did I hurt you?" she asked, worried. Had she done something wrong?

"No, you're perfect _mon amour,_ it just feels too good. Keep going, please," he ground out. Hesitantly, Hermione ran her fingers back down his length and back up again. Draco held his breath as she circled the tip with her thumb and he jerked as he had before. She couldn't get over how endowed he was she didn't know how it would work, how it would ever fit. She looked into Draco's eyes and saw the tension. He was holding something back, she knew.

"Show me," she whispered. He grabbed her hand in his and wrapped it around his overly large cock and stroked it up and down the length, showing her how to please him. She took up a rhythm on her own and he fell onto his back with a hiss, his hips straining up towards her hand. Wanting to pleasure him as he had her, she went faster, rubbing her thumb over the bead of liquid at the tip and making him shudder, using this as lubrication for her strokes. Enthralled, she continued her acquaintance with his blatant display of masculinity. His hips would thrust every time she did something he particularly liked. When she nervously moved down to cup his heavy sac he groaned.

"Gods, Hermione! You're a minx!" he groaned, his eyes wide with disbelief. She smiled proudly, delighted to know she had done something to make him feel the way she had felt the other night in the forest. He suddenly caught her hand and pushed her onto her back, landing on top of her, his erection pressing against her aching crevice. She strained towards his body and he growled, biting her ear. His hand not holding her wrist above her head flew down to her core and slid between her parted lips. She cried out, his touch making her dizzy with need.

He captivated her mouth while his hand worked magic between her legs, rubbing and rolling her engorged clit between his fingers making her buck and squeal. When his fingers plunged into her she saw stars, her head falling back where he took advantage of her exposed neck and sucked on her pulse point. Hermione moaned uncontrollably, her free hand roaming to wherever she could touch him, clasping his strongly muscled back, his shoulder, his neck, anchoring herself. Every muscle strained toward him as he worked her towards that high she'd felt the night previous and this time, she didn't hold back. Rapture overtook her and she cried out in delight as her body flooded with heat and she bucked against his hand. He purred his approval, urging her on as he dragged her back up so quickly she couldn't catch her breath, her body quaking as a second orgasm ripped through her hot on the heels of the first, her juices flooding his hand and the bed so that he groaned.

"Merlin, you're going to kill me," Draco said fiercely, claiming her lips to shower her in approval while she continued to tremble beneath him.

He slid his fingers out of her, sucking on them as he had before, his eyes rolling with pleasure at her taste. Easing his way between her legs, he anchored himself on his elbows just above her and looked into her eyes, one hand coming to cup her face, his thumb stroking her bottom lips as he gazed into her eyes as if he could read her soul written there. Hermione's breath left her just staring at his beautiful face which was full of need for her, a knowledge that floored her. His soft lips were slightly parted, his golden eyebrows bunched softly together. White blonde hair, still damp from their bath, fell in front of his steely grey eyes. She could feel his manhood against her center and it made her shiver with want.

"Are you sure?" he whispered again, clearly worried she might change her mind. "This is what you want?"

She smiled, raising her hand to brush his bangs from his eyes, touched at his concern, his need for her to be fully with him. She couldn't believe the change that had come over them both, but knew in her heart it was the most poignant experience of their young lives. "I'm sure. I need you, Draco. Like I've never needed anything before. I've never felt about anyone the way you make me feel. I want you; I want to share this part of myself with you, if you will have me."

"If I-? Gods, Hermione!" he groaned before crashing his lips against hers in a hard kiss full of need and want. She gave back just as much, giving him everything she had, the only thing she could give to tell him how much she cared for him. How much she loved him.

She was slightly stunned to hear that pivotal word in her head, but it came as no surprise. He had stolen her heart with their very first kiss and now nothing would replace the hole he would leave behind when he left her. So she took what she could tonight, promising herself that when the time came to let him go, she would do so without regrets. She would remember this night forever.

Draco slowed their ardent kisses and drew away from her by mere centimeters, his eyes dark, his hand gentle as he stoked her cheekbone.

"It will hurt, love. But only for a moment. I promise," he said huskily, the look on his face as if he wished he didn't have to cause her pain. Her heart sang at the endearment but she refused to read into it, only wanting to enjoy their moment. She nodded, kissing him slowly, showing him that she wanted to give that piece of herself to him, and only him.

"I trust you."

His hand cupping her cheek lovingly brushed her wet hair from her face, his lips coming to her brow, the corner of her eye, her temple. He enveloped her lips once more before moving his hand underneath her hip to hold her at an easier angle. She could feel his large manhood at her virgin entrance. A shiver wracked through her body when she remembered how big he was. How would it ever work? But he probed his way slowly into her, the stretching pressure almost more than she could bear. He watched her face avidly as he pushed deeper, slowly, slowly. Hermione's fingers dug into his shoulders at this new and wonderful sensation of being filled, a moan falling from her lips as he cursed softly above her, his eyes at half mast, his muscles bulging with the effort to hold himself back.

Suddenly, he shoved into her roughly and she cried out, a searing pain spreading from her core throughout her. Draco covered her body with his own, wrapping his arms around her and holding her close while he murmured soft words into her hair that she couldn't understand, his fingers gently massaging her lower back, easing her tense muscles as he held himself deep within her. Slowly, the pain ebbed and the pressure of him being inside her filled her with contentment. Nothing had ever felt so right before. When other boys had kissed her, Viktor, Ron, Cormac, she had been somewhat put off. But the fulfillment she felt in Draco's arms was unparalleled.

"Are you alright now?" he murmured, placing soothing kisses on her cheek and jaw. She nodded, humbled by his need to make this experience for her as wonderful as possible. His chivalry was unexpected and her love for him shone in her eyes as he began to move leisurely within her. His slow, sure strokes stoked a fire within her that she'd never known she'd had. Hermione lifted her hips to meet his, adding to the wonderful friction that made her body tingle with delight. She could see he was restraining himself for her, worried he was going to hurt her. Her arms wrapped around his strong back, holding him close.

"Don't hold back," she whispered. "I won't break."

Draco kissed her lips before plundering her throat while his hips picked up the pace, grinding into her harder and faster, taking her to unimaginable heights. Hermione moaned and continued to meet his thrusts, her need insatiable. She grasped every part of him she could get, whimpering, scrambling for that peak held just above her. She could hear Draco's breath coming in pants as he pounded into her, making her gasp in rapture.

"Draco..." she groaned. Oh, Merlin she was on fire, everything he did felt so good. His hand fell back to her hip, lifting her leg to experience a different angle that made her cry out in delight. His eyes never left hers as he thrust into her increasingly harder, his hips circling when he was deep inside her. His name fell from her lips over and over while she moaned and whimpered uncontrollably. He pulled himself all the way out to her entrance, held for a moment, and then thrust sharply back into her making her buck and cry out. He did this until she couldn't take anymore and he propelled himself into her with an intensity that was all-consuming. Hermione felt the pressure build as his member rubbed a spot inside her that made her writhe.

"That's it, that's my girl," he growled and her eyes rolled. "Come for me now."

Hermione threw her head back, her hips rising to catch every last millimeter of him as he thrust his way through her orgasm. She cried out as it ripped through her with surprising power, making her buck and hold him hard to her. He held her close and pounded into her, faster, harder, dragging out that incredible pleasure until she was nearly crying in disbelief. She felt him stiffening, his hips pistoning into her while she urged him to take the fall with her. He came, a yell cascading through his lips into her hair while he clutched her and pushed as deep as possible, ripping her back over the edge with him and they shattered together, breaking until there was nothing but pure, unadulterated ecstasy.

They both shuddered and held each other close while their breathing slowly returned to normal. Draco lay on top of her spent, his long limbs entangled in hers. Hermione had never felt so content or loved as she did in that moment. He kissed her neck softly, moving to her lips where they shared a tender meeting of souls. His lips touched her forehead lovingly before he laid his own against it, his hands cradling her to him. They stayed that way for a long time, basking in the afterglow of what they had shared.

Eventually, he rolled off her and waved his hand over her them, cleaning up the mess they had made. He pulled her back into his arms, tugging the blanket over them and holding her close. Together, they fell into a dreamless sleep.

...

XOXO

RynStar15


	12. Chapter 12

**A/N: This chapter contains material that some readers may find upsetting. Please check the tags for warnings.**

...

Draco woke slowly, a feeling of contentment stealing over him. It was a feeling he wasn't familiar with but he could easily get used to. It was still dark, still nighttime, they had probably only slept for a few hours, but it was the best sleep he'd had in longer than he could remember. He itched to stretch his aching limbs but Hermione was slumbering peacefully on his chest and he didn't have the heart to wake her. A small smile was curved on her plump pink lips, her cheeks still flushed from their love-making. For that's surely what it had been.

They had made love, another new experience. He had never made love to any woman, he'd never wanted to. He had needs, they were filled. He fucked women, enjoyed making them come, enjoyed the sweaty writhing of heated bodies. That's what he did. But with Hermione…everything was so brilliantly different. He'd wanted to make it as special for her as possible, she deserved it.

His hand absently rubbed her upper arm with the back of his knuckles while he thought about the night they had just shared, how responsive she had been, how sweetly innocent. He grew hard remembering the way she had arched into him, the way her fingers had dug into his back and shoulders which he was sure was covered in her scratch marks. He could easily remove them with a simple spell, but he thought of them as war wounds which were to be worn proudly.

Draco closed his eyes at the memory of breaking through that thin membrane, that prize she had given to him, only him. It had taken every ounce of his restraint to hold back and allow her to adjust, but he'd found after only a few moments how much he enjoyed holding her trembling body, soothing her while he was buried deep inside her. He worried that he had been too rough at the end. She had been so unbelievably tight he felt like he would rip her in half. He knew he was well endowed, which was typically a point of pride, but he'd never had a girl as tiny as Hermione. But she had been begging him for more; he remembered how she strained up to meet him at every thrust and that in itself had nearly sent him over the edge.

He was hard as a rock now just thinking about it, wanting her all over again. If he were to live a thousand lifetimes his need for her would never be sated. She had bewitched him, captured him in her tangled web of unrelenting courage, hard-headed stubbornness, sharp intellect, and her limitless understanding. He couldn't think of one thing that turned him off about her, not anymore. Not even knowing she was Muggle-born bothered him anymore, it was merely a fact. She had Muggle parents but she was a witch.

He didn't understand how that happened and maybe that's why he had been so easy to mold as a child. His ignorance had made him a perfect candidate for hate. He could remember easily how his blood would boil just thinking about Muggles or Muggle-borns being in his presence. They hadn't deserved to lick the ground he walked on.

Now that he was older and he had seen what he had seen, the endless torture, the pleading, the faces that looked just like his own being raped and mutilated before his eyes had him realizing one important fact; they were human. Just like him. They had feelings and families, they had hopes and dreams and ambitions. And yet here he was, standing amongst murderers and blindly torturing innocent souls for the sick pleasure of a depraved man.

He looked down at the image branded on the arm which was currently wrapped around Hermione and it made him sick. Draco had worried that Hermione would reject him when she saw it, which is why he had allowed her to bathe him, giving her adequate time to tell him off, call him a murderer, run from him screaming. But she'd kissed it, telling him wordlessly that she didn't care about the stupid Mark, she cared about _him._

He'd fallen for her right then. Because Hermione, unlike he, knew that one action did not a man make. She saw past that hateful image and to the man he was today, the man he was growing into, a man Draco liked infinitely better than the one he'd left back home.

He remembered the very first torture session he'd been assigned to after receiving his Mark the summer going into his sixth year. It had been a muggle man who had been locked in the dungeons of the Manor for reasons unknown to Draco. He had looked like an older version of himself; he could have been Lucius' own brother. He had pleaded with Draco to release him, to let him get back to his wife, Nancy, and their two daughters, one of which was only a few weeks old. This had been just after he had been told he would be responsible for killing Dumbledore and if he failed, his parents would suffer the consequences.

At first he had thought the man pitiful, his begging a disgusting display of weakness. But the man proceeded to show him pictures of his two daughters and his beautiful wife. The man had gone on and on about the accomplishments of his daughters, how his three-year-old was learning to tie her shoes and could sing the alphabet, how his newborn baby was already starting to hold up her head. He talked about his wife and how she was a nurse and she volunteered in soup kitchens for the homeless. He told Draco about her love for grilled-cheese sandwiches and Italian music.

For the very first time, Draco felt a sadness he had never felt before. If his father had been in the man's place he would never have been bragging to his captors about Draco or his mother. He wouldn't be flashing photos that he carried with him and Draco highly doubted he knew one thing his mother enjoyed. Lucius was forever berating Draco for all he did wrong, and he couldn't remember any time his father had told him 'good job' or boasted about his accomplishments to others. In his father's eyes, Draco's biggest accomplishment was earning the mission he had received and he knew his father's wrath would be extensive if he failed.

Draco had already felt sick about having to kill Professor Dumbledore, the most powerful man they were up against. They might as well have just told him to kill Potter and everyone else in the Order while he was at it. Draco knew it was unlikely he would actually succeed in his mission, especially since he had no wish to kill Professor Dumbledore in the first place. He was the only one who had ever offered a sense of understanding instead of immediate loathing at the sound of his surname.

When the muggle man had been dragged out, screaming, Draco saw the picture of his small family fall out of his hand and drift to the dirty stone floor. Glancing around to make sure no one had been looking, he had picked up the picture and pocketed it. For the rest of the year he remembered going back to it, digging to the bottom of his trunk to find the magic box his Aunt Bella had given him to lock away personal items. He would pull out the still picture (which honestly creeped him out) and looked at the smiling faces, knowing that his father had killed these young children's father before they really had a chance to know him. The man's wife would still be grieving, forced to take care of the children they had made together on her own and go to sleep in an empty bed where her husband should have been lying beside her.

His heart had begun to shatter the cold exterior it was so well known for. As his pathetic attempt to poison Dumbledore failed, relief overcame him, knowing that if he succeeded in his task, he would truly lose himself forever.

Hermione shifted next to him and Draco's mind rushed back to the present where Hermione Granger, the know-it-all, Muggle-born Gryffindor whom he had loathed so much, was in his arms, resting after the love they had made together. His hard exterior was eroding faster than he could stop it. It had begun last year and now, with Hermione's help, it was almost all a mere memory of who he used to be. He had changed so much more than he could ever have imagined. He didn't want to be a Death Eater, didn't want to kill and torture people whose parentage was "soiled" or the heroes who stood up against the terror that the Dark Lord unleashed.

And Draco knew, without a doubt, that his second mission, to kill the woman in his arms, would fail even more resoundingly than his first.

When Hermione's chocolate brown eyes locked on to his and she smiled that sexy smile he knew he was hooked. He could imagine waking to her every day for the rest of his life, looking forward to her sweet kisses when he opened his eyes, going to bed every night with her by his side.

Not that would ever tell her this. He could never tell anyone. It was too dangerous to love her, too dangerous to keep her selfishly his. They would be hunted down, constant prey to both sides. Hermione belonged with her people and Draco belonged with his. He would forget about Hermione, what they had shared, what they _could_ share, if only they were given the chance.

And somehow, some way, he would have to figure out how to save her from the grips of the Dark Lord who so desperately wanted to see her destroyed.

"What are you thinking about?" Hermione asked while her fingers drew circles on his chest, ripping him from his morbid thoughts. Just the sensation of her fingertips grazing his chest turned him on and he was once again growing beneath the sheets.

"You," he answered semi-truthfully, wondering what she would say if she knew the thoughts swimming in his mind. She smiled again and his heart broke a little more, knowing he didn't deserve it, he would never deserve her.

But he had her now.

Shaking the image of Hermione's cold, lifeless body by his own hand from his mind, he descended to take her lips in his, allowing her to erase those images, to help him destroy his former self once and for all. He pushed her onto her back and she sighed, her arms coming up to hold him while her legs circled his hips. She rose to him instantly and his mind went white with want. He tried to remember that she would be sore but when he cupped her breast and she moaned, arching up to him, he forgot.

Her hand was making its way to his erection when there was a loud _crash!_

Draco flew into action, ripping himself away from Hermione who had jumped at the noise and positioning himself in front of her. A large man in a black cloak with the hood drawn up had landed on their table, breaking it to pieces. He had already clambered to his feet and was charging at them. With a wave of the large man's hand Draco was wrapped from head to toe in tight cords which dug painfully into his skin. He yelled, careening sideways as he unbalanced and Hermione screamed as Draco was thrown to the wall where he hit jarringly and flopped onto his face on the floor. When she screamed again Draco struggled against his bindings, trying to flip himself over to see what was happening, to help Hermione. He heard another crash and his heart sank.

"Hermione!" he bellowed, his yell muffled by the dusty floor. The bindings suddenly sprang off him and Draco pushed himself to his feet where he was greeted by a naked and shaking Hermione who flew into his arms before he could even stand. His head pounded from where he had smashed it against the wall and his vision tilted dangerously as he rose with her.

"We have to hurry, get your things, more are probably coming," he said, urging her forward. The Tracker lay unconscious and bleeding from his skull on the floor by the opposite wall. Hermione quickly gathered her dress and threw it on while he did the same with his still damp hose and tunic, checking the small pouch to ensure their items were still nestled safely inside.

Draco grabbed Hermione's hand before she even had time to do up her stays and pulled her to the door when a _crack!_ announced the arrival of another Tracker. They were thrown against the door they had been about to exit and they fell to the ground. Draco tried to cover Hermione but he was hit with none other than the Cruciatus Curse. He tried not to cry out but his jaw unclenched itself and yells were ripped from him as the all-consuming pain surrounded him. His bones snapped, his muscles ripped, his blood boiled, and his skin was being torn from his body. He couldn't see, couldn't think past the pain.

It stopped suddenly and he was left gasping on the ground, his only thought was to get to Hermione and get her safe. But she was at his side, tugging at him, trying to pull him to his feet. She had saved him again; the second man now sprawled in an impossible angle on the floor. Her lip was bleeding and Draco felt guilt assail him as he had no idea what had happened while he'd been writhing on the ground.

"Are you alright?" Hermione asked, taking his weight as he clambered to his feet.

His legs felt like jelly, his whole body weak and throbbing in the aftermath of the curse he had felt too many times to count.

He ignored her question and dragged her face into his hands, swiping at the blood on her chin. "Did he hurt you, are you okay?" he questioned her, looking for more traces of injury but she shook her head.

"I'm fine, it's just a scratch. We have to go," she said and he took her hand, yanking her out the door. They flew down the stairs, through the empty dining hall, and into the night where the rain had thankfully ceased. Hermione tugged him to the left, weaving them between buildings and down small alleyways.

He followed her wordlessly, knowing she would steer him right as they splashed through the mud, skidding and pulling each other forward through the village.

They turned down a dark alleyway and a man Apparated in front of them and they had to skid to a halt to keep from crashing head-long into him. Hermione screeched in surprise and waved her hand sending the man flying. Another flick of her wrist had the man bound in ropes as he himself had been. He was about to congratulate her on her quick work but she was suddenly thrown to the ground, tugging him down with her as he still had her hand.

Draco turned to see the perpetrator running towards them and Draco released Hermione to face his adversary. The man's arms flew up and Draco ducked the on-coming red flame.

 _Flaggrantia!_ he pushed towards the Tracker with alarming force. The man was thrown backwards and began screaming in pain, tearing at his skin which Draco knew would feel as it were on fire. _Petrificus Totalis_! he waved almost lazily at the writhing man. He sprung straight as a board and stayed there, his eyes screaming in the pain his earlier curse was inflicting. The man would soon be tortured to death if his companions didn't find him soon, but Draco couldn't care less if the man lived or not.

Draco knelt to Hermione's side who was slowly sitting up, clutching her side.

"Are you hurt?" he asked, grabbing her upper arm and helping her stand which made her wince. She shook her head but looked pale.

"Are you sure?" He didn't believe her. She was moving too slowly, too stiffly and she was far too wan for his taste.

"Yes, I'm sure, just a little dizzy is all. Come on, let's move. I don't want to wait for another one to find us."

Draco didn't argue although he wanted to. She was right, they couldn't wait around, they'd been stupid to have used magic in the first place.

He put his hand between her shoulder blades and hastened her forward. He allowed her to lead the way to wherever they were going for she hadn't told him. He could hear more Trackers Apparating behind them and he kept Hermione in front of him, pushing her faster as her gait had slowed considerably. They ducked around a corner and Draco heard spells whizzing past them and crashing into the side of a hut as he yanked Hermione out of danger's path.

Draco wrapped an arm around Hermione's shoulders, pulling her with him as she continued to falter. His heart hammered with fear wondering how badly she'd been injured by the unknown spell she'd been hit with.

He threw up a shield when the Trackers flew around the corner behind them and silent spells bounced off the barrier. One hit the shield so forcefully his entire arm burned and he yelled out in pain, cradling it to his chest. He threw Hermione roughly to the ground when a spell headed her way but he was hit in the back by a powerful Impediment Curse. Draco hit the ground hard, sliding a few centimeters in the muck. He heard Hermione throw up another Shield Charm while her other hand grabbed the back of his tunic, tugging him upward.

"Draco come on, _please!"_ Hermione cried, dropping the shield in order to use her other hand to pull at his useless body. The men were less than two meters away when he was finally able to struggle to his feet, but it was too late.

One of the large men hurled himself at them and collided with the two teenagers, bringing them down roughly. Draco felt the man's hand at his throat, cutting off his air supply. He kicked out, trying to knock the man off but the other two men where there, locking Draco in place with a quick spell. He could hear Hermione screaming and tugging at the man's hand which was still pressing on Draco's jugular, one hand flying out to catch the other two who yelled and fell back. She turned back to the man who was strangling Draco to death as he lie helpless, but the beefy man backhanded her fiercely, knocking her to the ground.

Draco could feel his face burning and his lungs searing, fear stabbing him as he was helpless to protect Hermione who was screaming. Stars popped up in front of his eyes as he watched Hermione being pulled up by one of the men, her cries tearing him up inside while he tried to fight off the curse that kept him immobile. He watched helplessly as one man held her still while the other man came forward and slapped her, her head whipping to the side.

"Well, well, well, look who we finally got!" the man that had slapped her drawled. Hermione struggled uselessly in the other man's grasp.

"You're choking him! Stop! _Stop,_ please, I'll do anything!" she cried, tears rolling down her face as she fought to get to him. Draco was losing consciousness. He fought to stay awake, but the pain drove him towards the blissful blackness...

"Anything?" he heard the slimy man say. _No, Hermione don't! They'll rape you, kill you, get away, run, go!_ His mind screamed uselessly. But his heart sank when he heard her acquiesce.

The pressure on his throat vanished and he sucked in painful breaths, coughs wrenched from his chest, but unable to escape his sealed lips. His body slowly regulated itself as the buzzing in his ears died and was filled instead with Hermione's sobs and the sounds of the Tracker's voices.

"Dorshire, hold 'er tight. Now, my lady, let's see wha's beneath that nice little dress o' yers," the disgusting pervert said. Draco watched in horror as he grabbed her breasts tightly in his hands over the fabric of her gown while she yanked back, sobbing. Draco tried to scream, yell, move, do _anything,_ but the spell held him in position on the ground. The man cackled and ripped the dress, exposing her breasts to the cold night air and the other men's eyes.

Draco felt his insides ripping into pieces. He felt physically ill as he watched the man grope and fondle her while she whimpered uselessly, slamming her eyes closed, allowing him to do as he wished in exchange for Draco's life. She flinched and cried out when his teeth clamped onto a nipple and Draco though he might be sick.

The man backhanded her across her face hard yelling, "Do ye wan' yer man here ta get it? Stop yer fussin'! Yer gettin' wha' ye deserve! Think ye can hide from us? Think ye can outsmart us, eh? Yer _nothin'_ compared ta us! We're da on'y _real_ wizards! Yer just filth!" He slapped her again and she slumped in Dorshire's arms, his beefy arms tight around her middle. Dorshire yanked her back to a standing position and the slimy git began his assault on her person once more, kissing and licking her breasts, bruising them with his teeth and hands while he growled in delight and Hermione sobbed quietly, her face turned away. Draco plead with her silently to fight, to get away, that he wasn't worth this, but she held steadfast, allowing the assault to continue so that his worthless self could keep breathing.

Draco felt an unprecedented rage fill him when the man who had nearly strangled Draco to death came up to her.

"C'mon, Amery. Share a li'l." Amery stepped aside with a grin while the second man stood in front of Hermione. This man did the same as the first, ravaging her breasts and spewing filth about her, grabbing her face and pressing his dirty mouth against hers, her face screwed up in disgust and fear. Amery sauntered over to Draco with a sneer while his friend continued.

"Like wha' yeh see?" he grinned. "How abou' a closer looksi?" Draco was lifted to a standing position, floating a few inches off the ground until he was less than a meter from Hermione who was trembling harshly, being held up by the two beefy arms around her waist, her arms pinned to her sides. Draco tried to catch her eye, to signal to her to fight, but she refused to meet his gaze, her face turned away from him.

"Ah, now tha's not very nice," Amery said, his companion still latched to her breast. "Why don' you look at yer man, show 'im 'ow much ye like Marius touchin' ye?"

Amery reached over and grabbed her face, yanking it towards Draco until her dead eyes were on his, tears flooding her cheeks. Marius laughed and gripped the bottom of her dress, yanking it up to expose the rest of her to the men who hooted with delight. Her eyes snapped shut in humiliation and Draco wanted to die.

"Hey! Wha's goin' on down there?" A man with a lantern appeared at the entrance of their alley way. "Wha- get yer bloody hands offa her! Ye good-fer-nuthin' vermin!" The man ran towards them until he saw Draco floating. He stopped dead in his tracks, looking from one face to another. "What tha 'ell?"

Amery turned to where he was looking, cursed, and Draco slumped to the ground, the spell removed. Before Amery could curse him again Draco launched himself at his knees, knocking him to the ground with a furious yell, pulling back his fist and smashing it into his face while the man with the lantern rushed forward to help. Amery's fragile facial bones snapped beneath Draco's onslaught as he pounded into him over and over, sickeningly wet sounds falling from his lips between blows. Draco buried the pain of Hermione's tortured gaze into the destruction of the man before him until the face beneath him was an unrecognizable mess of blood and bone, one of his eyes bulging from its socket.

Hermione's scream yanked Draco back to the present and he whipped around, striking down the man who held Hermione with a well-placed _Avada._ He slumped, taking Hermione down with him and Draco darted forward, dragging her from the dead man's clutches and into his arms.

He turned to where Marius was being attacked by their rescuer, screaming in pain as the man cracked the lantern across his face and he dropped, smacking at the flames which erupted on his head. Draco lifted his hand, driving his fury at the rapist and the flames increased tenfold, consuming the man whose screams multiplied and the Muggle backed away, terrified.

Draco Stunned the good Samaritan, cushioning his fall so as not to hurt the man, before turning his attention to the trembling woman in his arms, the screams of the burning Marius quieting as he succumbed.

"Are you alright? Are you okay?" she asked through her tears before he could say anything, grabbing his face in her hands and looking at him. He knew he must look a mess having been thrown in the dirt so many times.

"I'm fine," he assured her, brushing the blood-soaked hair from her face gently, fear and guilt tearing at his insides. "Hermione, I'm so sorry, I tried to get to you-"

"I know," she hushed, stroking his cheek. "It's not your fault. I'm alright, I am."

Draco shook his head, cradling her battered face. "No, you're not," he croaked, taking in every bruise, every cut, each one slicing through his heart like shards of glass. "But you're safe now, I've got you, and I swear to every deity there is that they'll never touch you again, no one will ever touch you-"

Hermione pulled him into her arms as his voice cracked, emotion clogging his throat. He hugged her close, needing, for just a moment, to ground himself. He would never forget what he'd seen; never forget the fear in her eyes, his utter helplessness. He was shaking as much as she and he felt weak. He was supposed to be strong, be a Malfoy, but this woman tore down every defense he'd ever built until he was raw, completely and utterly shattered by her. Hermione stroked his hair and spoke softly to him.

"It's not your fault, Draco. You can't blame yourself. There was nothing you could do. You saved me. You saved me before anything really bad could happen. All they did was touch me. They were vulgar and disgusting, but they didn't really hurt me. You stopped them, that's all that matters."

"But not soon enough," he croaked, burying his face in her hair. "Not soon enough. I couldn't stop it." He felt worse than the lowest vermin. He'd murdered innocent men with barely a twitch of his arm, but when it came down to it, when it really mattered, he hadn't been able to protect the one person in his life who meant anything to him. He'd never forgive himself.

"But you did. You stopped it before anything really bad could happen. I won't allow you to blame yourself."

He drew her back and kissed her gently, letting her know that she was his and no one else's. He was afraid his touch would frighten her after what those men had done, but she welcomed it, kissing him back with eager enthusiasm. He pulled back and looked at her. She'd somehow repaired her dress without him noticing and her cloak was wrapped tightly around her, but he could still see bite marks on her cleavage. He was hardly a Healer but he had picked up a few spells that had helped him get through the brutal trainings he'd been forced to endure. He ran his hand which emitted a soft golden glow over every cut and bruise, watching them disappear as she sighed in relief.

"Thank you," she whispered after the last gash on her cheekbone knitted itself. He dropped a soft kiss where the mark had been, his eyes closing as he fought back the images of those monsters touching her.

"We have to go," he murmured, pulling her back slightly. She nodded and he pulled her up gently. Her gaze turned to the man who was still burning brightly, the sickening smell of melted flesh stinging their nostrils. Draco doused the flames as Hermione turned to the other two men. One glance at Amery and she gasped, turning away. She gazed wearily Dorshire.

"Is he-?"

Draco clenched his jaw but didn't answer. Hermione swallowed and with a wave of her hand all three men disappeared.

"Where did you send them?" he asked.

"To the dungeons where we were taken back in the city. It's where I left the others."

"Hopefully they'll take this as a warning," Draco said darkly. "I'll kill every last one for what they've done."

He expected her to yell at him, to tell him off, call him a murderous monster. When she didn't, he asked her why. She looked up at him calmly.

"Do you think I haven't killed too, Draco?" she whispered. The words were like a punch to his stomach. What had this war done to her? "Because I have, and I will again. I don't know that I would have done any different if it had been you they were torturing."

Draco was speechless. He dragged her back into his arms, overwhelmed by the myriad emotions roiling through him. He knew what it took from him to murder, he couldn't imagine what it stole from her.

"What about that man?" she whispered. "We can't just leave him here, he saved us."

Draco turned and Levitated the man off the ground, carrying him to a cart full of hay sitting next to a little hut. He laid the man down gently, muttering _Obliviate!_ He thanked the Muggle wordlessly and Hermione placed a hand on his shoulder.

"We need to go," she said. "And no more magic. We can do without. I can't stand another attack from those men. I had no idea they would be so…ruthless."

Draco remembered Milo telling him to watch his back. Now Draco finally understood why he had been so adamant about it. Hermione led the way, clutching her cloak tightly around her and they only walked through the town for about ten minutes before they came to the River Thames. Hermione looked up and down the river's edge before spotting a dock with several different sized boats tied to posts jutting up on it. She chose a small one towards the end, stiffly untying the rope that anchored it.

"Get into the skiff first and I will push off," she said, motioning him towards the closest one and holding it still for him. Draco did as he was told as he knew less than nothing about "skiffs."

He looked unenthusiastically at the skiff. It was probably two meters long and a meter wide, one end coming to a point. There were two benches and a round bottom. He placed one foot in the little boat and it rocked wildly so he yanked he foot back, cursing.

"Careful, Draco. Distribute your weight evenly and sit down quickly."

He tried, he really did, but the damn this swayed every time he made the smallest movement. He sort of toppled into the skiff while it bobbed dangerously. Water spilled in and gathered on the bottom and Hermione clucked angrily.

"See? That's what happens when you don't distribute your weight!" she snapped. "I told you what to do, why didn't you listen? Oh, that's right, because you're a Malfoy. You do what you damn well please."

Draco looked up at her so fast his neck popped. "Excuse me? Who the fuck do you think you are? Just because you Muggles aren't smart enough to think of a better way of transportation doesn't mean you have to take it out on me when the damn thing malfunctions!" He struggled into a sitting position while the plank of wood swayed back and forth.

"I am not a _Muggle,_ you imbecile! I'm a _witch_ and a bloody good one at that!" she screeched. She ripped at the rope anchoring the tiny boat to the dock and finally pulled it loose. Gripping the front of the boat, she dragged it back around the end of the dock and held it still while she placed one foot in the boat and used the other one to push off the dock. The skiff barely swayed at all when she sat down which fed Draco's anger for he was hoping to throw it in her face when the boat tipped as she got in.

Hermione sat lightly on the bench at the back of the boat and Draco didn't miss the wince as she adjusted though he was too peeved to ask her about it. She retrieved two sticks from beneath the benches that were flat at one end and stuck them in little slots dug into the side of the boat. She dipped the flat ends into the water and pulled them back together and the small boat was soon caught in the current of the river. They floated further towards the middle of the river and she kept up with the pushing and pulling of the sticks. Her face was soon flushed and tendrils of hair stuck to her sweaty brow, her face looking pained.

"Go to sleep," she snapped when she caught him looking at her. But Draco continued watching her, noticing her wince with every tug of the sticks.

"Are you al-"

"I said go to sleep!" she screeched shrilly, tears filling her eyes.

Draco glared at her and was about to tell her off for being a bossy bitch but he curbed his tongue. He shouldn't have snapped back at her earlier. She was upset, she'd just been molested. He should be considerate and instead he had allowed his own anger to take control and lashed out at considered apologizing, but the look on her face told him to was best to just leave it alone.

He leaned back on his bench so his head could rest on the front of the boat. It was far from comfortable but he figured it was the best he was going to get. He tried not to concentrate on the throbbing pain of his body and closed his eyes, allowing the rocking of the skiff and the sounds of the water around him to ease him to sleep.

...

XOXO

RynStar15


	13. Chapter 13

Hermione's arms burned and her hands were like icicles glued to the handles of the oars. She had been rowing for hours, the stars fading into the pale periwinkle of the first signs of dawn. She had wept softly for a long time, the turmoil of what had happened in that alley tearing at her soul. She couldn't get the image of those men touching her out of her head. She could feel their hands on her, their teeth, heard the insults they had hurled at her. She'd never let another person other than Draco touch her like that and now three depraved men had seen her, touched parts of her she'd only ever given to one soul. She felt dirty, used, defiled. It felt as though those men had destroyed the beauty of what she and Draco had shared only hours before, turning it into something grotesque and vile.

Her logical mind knew she shouldn't associate the two. What Draco had given her had been beyond words; he had cherished her, shown her a whole new depth of love. What they'd shared had been beautiful and pure. It was nothing like what those men had done to her.

In the back of her mind she berated herself for letting her emotions corrupt her judgment. Her logical mind believed what she'd told Draco: they had been vulgar, vile, and disgusting, but they hadn't really hurt her. A couple of slaps, a couple of bites were _nothing_ to Draco nearly having the life choked out of him. She swallowed back bile at the image of him dying right before her eyes. It had been worth it to save him, the bruises blossoming on his neck a dire reminder of what could have happened. They had put their hands on her body, but they couldn't touch her where it really mattered.

And now they were dead. They could never hurt her again, could never make another woman feel the way she did. She should be grateful for the way things had turned out. Draco's life was worth her few minutes of humiliation.

But try as she might, she couldn't stop hating Draco for not being able to stop it.

She had told him she didn't blame him, and she didn't, not really. He had fought to get to her, she knew, she'd seen it in his initial struggle and later in his eyes as he lay frozen on the ground. He would have saved her if he could. There was a small part in her, however, that hated him for watching and not doing anything. It was stupid, and she loathed herself for the way she felt. When he'd been free he'd been like a madman, it had been terrifying to watch. He'd come unleashed, brutally murdering the men who had hurt her and she'd seen for the first time since the battle at Malfoy Manor as the Death Eater which still raged inside.

But secretly, she'd been grateful. She had _wanted_ those men tortured as they had tortured her. And now, thanks to Draco, they were dead. They could never hurt her or anyone else again. So she allowed the memory of Draco wrenching her from the lifeless grasp of that worthless Tracker, holding her close as he killed the last one, to replace the image of his eyes on her while other men touched her where only he belonged.

She turned her morbid thoughts instead to the throbbing in her left side. It burned and stung. She wanted to put her hand there to see how much blood she had lost but she continued rowing, ignoring the pain. She hadn't told Draco yet, but whatever that Tracker had cursed her with had left a gaping wound in her side. She didn't know how to fix it; she had tried several times while Draco had dealt with the man. It was a spell she'd never seen before.

She'd been grateful for Dorshire's grip around her stomach which had concealed her wound from the prying eyes of the others. She'd been terrified the men would see the laceration and open it more or that Draco would see it and be worried. They didn't have time to find a doctor to sew the skin together; they had to keep moving. So she'd wrapped her cloak tightly around herself to block it from view. They had to make it to Alvida in time. It was the 27th; they had four days until the night she died. _Dies,_ she reminded herself. She's not dead yet.

Hermione had thought countless times about saving her, but she knew she couldn't. Something that severe would have consequences, major ones. But she also knew she couldn't just stand by and watch her be burned alive while she did nothing. When the time came, what would she do?

Hermione hissed in pain yet again as the motion of her rowing ripped at the gash on her side. She kept her eye on Draco, hoping he wouldn't wake up anytime soon. She longed to be able to just _Scorgify_ the blood away but was afraid of the Trackers returning. So she watched as Draco slept fitfully, knowing he was haunted by his dreams and likely highly uncomfortable with his neck at that angle... _How_ was he even sleeping like that? She shook her head in astonishment.

Day fully broke and the sun peaked weakly through the clouds that still mostly covered the sky. A cold breeze brought goosebumps to her skin and she snuggled further into her cloak. The water was smooth at least, for which she was thankful, the current helping to pull them along. Her arms had never done this much work before but she grinned as she thought of the huge biceps she would have by the end of this trip.

"What are you smiling about?"

Hermione jumped at Draco's voice and tucked her elbows in to hide the gash, glancing down to make sure it was covered by the cloak.

"I-I was just thinking about showing off my hard earned muscles to the boys when we get home," she said honestly, stuttering with the fear of being caught hiding something from him. She knew she was a terrible liar. But he didn't say anything, merely chuckling at her admission, so she didn't think he'd noticed. His eyes were still at half-mast so he probably wasn't even fully awake yet as he'd obviously forgotten they were supposed to be fighting.

The sun shone upon Draco's platinum locks, making him glow ethereally. She wished he would open his eyes more so she could look into their stone grey depths. He had gorgeous eyes with dark gold eyelashes so thick any woman would be envious. He was so achingly beautiful; she wanted to remember him like this always. When she lay in bed at night, lonely and longing for his touch she would remember him like this. Lazily sprawled on a boat in thirteenth century garb on the River Thames. She laughed at how absurd it was.

"Now what?" he asked sitting up and stretching. She told him what she'd been thinking about and he grinned.

"Well, you can't blame a bloke for making a pair of hose look good, now can you?" he wiggled his eyebrows and she laughed again until a twinge of pain radiated throughout her body from her side. She fought to keep her face straight, but he noticed.

"What's wrong?" He sat forward and moved to come to her but she halted him crying, "No! Don't! You'll tip the boat!"

He stayed seated but kept his eyes locked on her face. "What's wrong? You're hurt, aren't you?"

"No, no it's nothing like that," she lied. "I just, erm, have to use the W.C." That was honest at least.

"Oh." He looked around. "Well, I guess I can steer this death trap while you go."

"It's not a death trap; millions of people have successfully used boats. Besides you don't know how to row."

"Then teach me. Wait, I have to go too. Teach me after." He scooted to the side and, scared of standing up and making the skiff rock again, he awkwardly pushed himself to the side and aimed over. Hermione snorted and looked away, leaning slightly to the right to balance his actions on the left side of the boat. When he finished she made him rinse his hands in the water before she would show him what to do.

She gave him a quick lesson on how to row then pulled the oars inside so they could float while Draco counter-balanced the boat so she could relieve herself. Hermione kept low so the skiff wouldn't rock and kept her left side facing away from Draco. She lifted her heavy skirts, mortified that she had to do this in front of him, and leaned her bum over the side of the boat. She insisted that he look away while she did her business and rinsed her hands then instructed him to move to the rower's seat while she took his. She kept her cloak tightly pulled around her, covering the wound, thankful for the thick black material which hid it from view.

"Cold?" he asked while he grabbed the oars and got them into position.

"A little," she said. He awkwardly set about trying to move the oars together while she handed out pointers to help him along.

"Don't put them in so deep, you only need to really skim the surface. Your right arm is going faster than your left, see how we're turning? Straighten it out now…there like that. No, see you over-corrected. Don't-"

"Enough!" he roared. "Give it a rest! I've got it, alright? See? We're moving. Stop nit-picking!"

Hermione huffed and looked away from him. He was such a prat! She was only trying to help! Fine, if he didn't want it, he could struggle. See if she cared.

They sat in silence for a long while until she couldn't take it anymore. She itched to take the oars from him and row properly. They _did_ want to get somewhere at some point. The current was swift but they needed to move faster than that. He refused to let her retake her place, however, insisting she needed to rest. She watched him row awkwardly again for a long while until he quelled her fears.

"We're ahead of schedule, Hermione. We started last night as opposed to this morning. We'll be fine. Just get some sleep, you're too pale. I'm getting better at it already, see?"

Hermione wondered just how much of her being pale had to do with being tired and how much had to do with blood loss as she felt it trickling down her side. She finally gave in and went to the very end of the boat in front of the bench and curled into a ball. She lay on her left side, her right hand holding the wound so Draco wouldn't see, attempting to quell the flow. She could feel how much blood there was, her gown squishy from the accumulation. She felt sick. She refused to look at it, afraid she might regurgitate if she did. Instead, she closed her eyes and willed herself to get some rest.

She woke several times, often only for moments. It was hot, too hot. The sun beat down on her and she cursed it, wishing for the cold breeze to return. She would glance at Draco sometimes to see him adjusting to the rowing. Then she would drift back to sleep where it was fiery hot again.

They were moving too fast. She could tell just by the motion of the boat. The water was too rough, it shouldn't be this rough. At least the clouds were covering the sky and saving her from the evil sun.

Hermione sat up shakily. She looked around. Where were they? There shouldn't be any woods here; they were supposed to stop before the woods. She turned to Draco.

"Did we pass the big bend already?"

"Yeah, 'bout forty-five minutes ago. Why? How much longer do we have?"

"Draco! You should have woken me! We were supposed to stop at the bend!"

His eyebrows shot up. "What? Why didn't you tell me that?"

"It was on the map! Didn't you look at it when you stole it from the bag?" She felt lightheaded. They had gone too far! Now they would have to back track! It would take them forever!

"I didn't _steal_ it! Besides, I didn't have time, I was-"

The boat lurched downward suddenly before straightening itself out, forcing Hermione to grip the side as she was unbalanced. Draco looked ahead and blanched.

"Oh, shit."

Hermione turned, her side searing at the movement, but she forgot all about it when she saw what Draco had seen.

Rapids. This was why they were supposed to stop at the bend. Oh, gods, their little skiff would never make it. The water roared in her ears as if someone had turned up a movie too loud. Her father used to do that, turn it up so loud it shook the house. This whole escapade was too much like a movie in her opinion.

"Draco, steer right, steer right! We have to get to the shore!"

"We'll never make it!" he yelled wildly as he struggled with the oars in the increasingly accelerated current. She knew, but they had to try. She wanted to take the oars from him but she couldn't risk leaving them unattended for even a second. Instead, she directed Draco. She'd rowed many times before, though never on rapids. Her heart leapt to her throat as they headed towards a huge boulder. She calculated both sides and decided right would be easier so she shouted back instructions to a tense Draco. Several times Hermione reached out of the front of the boat to push them away from rocks. Their tiny boat smashed into several, jarring them both and making nasty crunching sounds, but the skiff held strong.

The rapids increased, throwing them this way and that, dropping a meter and then two, tossing them off course and turning them sideways. Hermione looked back at Draco who was grunting with exertion, his blonde hair plastered to his forehead, drenched with sweat and river water. Hermione herself was soaking from the number of times they'd plunged into the water.

"Hold on!" she yelled as they dropped another few meters, water cascading into the front of the boat, submerging Hermione who clung to the sides for dear life, before bobbing to the surface, the bottom filled with water. Hermione turned to the puddle in the skiff, scooping it out with her hands, knowing it would only make it harder for Draco to row. Draco grunted through his teeth, tugging at the oars to keep them from crashing into the boulders that popped up like flowers in a field. Hermione scooped fiercely knowing that if the boat was too heavy Draco's steering would be for naught. She had to grab the side once to steady herself when the side of the skiff bounced wildly off a boulder. She scooped harder, frustrated at the water that flew in and refilled what she had displaced.

"Hermione!" Draco suddenly screamed. His face was horrified and she turned to see what was happening.

A fall, they were headed towards a fall.

She didn't have time, it was upon them. Draco reached out to her but she was out of range. She grappled for the side and caught it, but it wasn't enough.

She heard Draco scream her name again as the boat pitched forward suddenly, expelling her into the quickly churning water. She had been so surprised she hadn't been able to catch a breath and now the currents tugged her under and her lungs cried out. She used her arms to try to propel herself to the surface but it was no use, she no longer knew which way was up. She was flipped over and over, water rushing up her nose, her quickly frozen appendages like lead. Her skirt tangled and she was battered on all sides from rocks. She brushed briefly against the river bottom and scrambled to get her legs underneath her to push off on it but she was spun around, now heading down the river face forward.

Hermione panicked. Pressure built around her; her lungs were screaming, her ears were pounding, she needed air, she had to have air! She flailed uselessly, the merciless river beating her on all sides. She tried to grab a rock, grab anything to pull herself to the surface, but it was no use, the water was too swift and she was too weak. Her feet hit something hard, spinning her body as pain shot through her legs. She spun right into a boulder, her head smashing against it. All she could think as everything went black was how sorry she was she hadn't told Draco she loved him yet.

...

Draco watched as Hermione was sucked under the fierce current seconds before the small boat he had been working so hard to keep on track hit a large rock and flipped, tossing him into the icy river with her.

Draco kicked for the surface, his mind on air, sweet, precious air. His body was thrown into a boulder and he grasped it with everything he had, wrapping his arms around it and anchoring himself. He put his feet on the large rock and pushed up. His head broke the surface and he gasped, water rushing into his open mouth, causing him to choke. He lost grip on the boulder and the current sucked him down the fall, pulling him under once more. He fought to stay upright knowing that if he got flipped around he would never make it back to the surface. His head bobbed above the water again and he breathed in the freezing air, filling his lungs in case he was yanked under again.

"Hermione!" he bellowed, looking everywhere for her in the water. He didn't see anything but the churning river that pulled him savagely along as if he were no more than a rag doll. The rocks were thinning out and he could see where the current slowed about 50 meters ahead. But he had to make it through the rapids first. He knew once he got to calmer water he could swim his way out, all those summers spent at the wizarding resort on the beach in Venice made him confident in his skills. He worried that Hermione might not know how to swim, or that she had been caught up in her dress, or that she got stuck somewhere or was hurt... Anything could have happened.

He was close to panic, battling between the rocks while he searched for Hermione, calling her name uselessly to a river who had decided to take her for its own. Water streamed into his nose and mouth as he called her name over and over, searching for any sign of her as rocks pummeled his body and he was pulled under yet again, struggling against the endless current. His limbs were tired from fighting the water; his lungs ached from the lack of air. His outstretched arm hit another rock and he clenched his fingers around a handhold. He pulled against the current, flipping his body so he could grab hold with both hands and he wrenched himself forward, finally able to wrap a numb arm around the rock and pull himself above the freezing water. He gulped in air and kept pulling until he could raise himself above the raging river for a better view.

"Hermione!" he screamed again, his voice hoarse from yelling. His eyes scanned the water, looking, searching. She had to be there, had to! He remembered the lesson Milo had given him, _don't forget the details._ He looked with a sharper eye, places he wouldn't have looked before. There! A glimpse of red made his heart sing. She wasn't moving, stuck on a rock. He couldn't tell from this distance if she was awake or not, his heart dropping as he realized she was face down, her long dark hair swirling in the current around her. _No…_

Taking a deep breath Draco plunged back into the icy river, swimming with the current towards where he had last seen her. "Hermione!" he screamed again, willing for her to look back and see him, but the roar of the river was too loud. As he closed in on her he started to panic, she hadn't moved at all. _Please be alright…_

Angling himself so that he would hit the rock she was caught on, he reached out and hit the rock with his arm first, tucking his legs beneath her body to anchor himself and prevent the current from slamming him into her. With one hand he held his body in place while he turned Hermione over with the other. The current rushed against his back, threatening to rip them both from the rock as he tried to roll an unconscious Hermione onto her back.

"Come on, come on!" he cried. He finally looked into her face. Her lips were blue, her eyes closed. His heart clenched in fear and he bent down to see if she was breathing. The small movement set him off balance and he slipped, his hold on the rock lost purchase and he fell sideways, swept up once more in the never ending battle, this time with Hermione tucked tightly under his left arm. Using his right, Draco spun himself so he was facing forward, not wanting to smash into anything. He was closer to the shore now and the current had ebbed slightly, he could make it.

Clenching Hermione to him he used the last of his strength to propel them towards land. He was so tired and his lungs burned with every rasping gasp. His arms and legs screamed in protest against the abuse they were receiving, his entire body numb with cold.

Then the rain came.

Bellowing against the unfairness of it all, he pushed harder and was greeted with an even less ruthless current. Tiring quickly, he switched Hermione to the other arm, making sure that her lifeless face stayed above the surface. Draco pushed and pulled, every few meters bringing his feet down to see if he could touch the bottom.

He nearly cried out in relief when they finally struck the rocky river bottom. He hefted Hermione into both of his arms and forced his legs through the water to the gravelly shore, stumbling with the exertion. He collapsed the moment he made land, not able to hold Hermione and her heavy sodden dress and cloak up any longer. He laid her down, panting, shoving the hair plastered on her face away with shaking hands. Even to him she felt cold.

"Wake up, wake up Hermione, come on!" he cried, his voice quivering in dread. He slapped her face and shook her shoulders but it was no use. Her lifeless form taunted him. Draco couldn't breathe, she was so still...

He bent down to see if she was taking in any air, but he felt nothing but her freezing lips against his cheek, her chest still beneath the folds of the cloak. He yelled in agony, bringing his fists down on the ground beside her as the pain that rushed through him made his head spin.

"Wake up Hermione! You can't do this!" he cried, panic and hysteria gripping him with icy hands. _Pull yourself together, Malfoy, think!_ Why wasn't she breathing? Had she swallowed water? His mind raced as he thought of spells that might help. Then he remembered one Snape had taught him after Goyle had choked on a piece of cake. Placing his hands over her throat he screamed _"Anapneo!"_

Hermione heaved and Draco hurriedly rolled her onto her side as water rushed from her lungs and onto the forest floor. His euphoria was short lived, however, as she simply slumped in his arms after her body expelled the water.

"No, no, no," he moaned as he laid her back, still and lifeless as ever. She couldn't be gone, not after everything… _Think, damn you! Save her!_

But he knew almost nothing about healing. He didn't know how to save her.

 _You can't give up, think of everything she's done to save you. She found you in London, rescued you from the gallows, fought for your life, gave her body for you. You can't give up on her! Think, what does she need?_

"Help me, Hermione," he begged, his hands raking over her face and chest. "What do I do, how can I save you?"

He thought of how Hermione would figure it out. He'd cleared her airway, she should be able to breathe, so why didn't she? Was there something wrong with her lungs? He placed his hands on her chest to see if they moved and it was then he realized what was wrong. Her chest was still, there was no heartbeat. No heartbeat…

His grandfather Cygnus had collapsed during a family dinner when he was eight. Everyone had flitted around, screaming and carrying on, except for his mother. She'd calmly knelt by him, placing both hands over his chest, small sparks shooting from her hands. He'd coughed and sat up, yelling for someone to get him a brandy…

He didn't know the spell, but that wouldn't stop him, not now. Closing his eyes he felt deep inside himself as Milo had instructed, feeling for the power that thrummed within him. He could see the electricity, feel its power, pushed it through him and to his hands, where he felt it simmering against his palm. With a strangled yell he forced the power from him into Hermione, felt the sizzle before the jolt, watched in awe as it struck her, her entire body heaving up, just as Cygnus had.

She fell back to the forest floor and with a shuddering gasp her eyes shot open, her hands flying up at her sides. Draco cried out in elation as she began coughing and he heaved her up to help her breathe, her body wracking with the effort.

When she finished she was shaking violently and Draco laid her on her back while his own trembling relief stole over him. He laughed, a smile breaking onto his face. He'd done it! Her eyes opened and she looked up at him.

"Draco?" she croaked, her expression confused.

He couldn't stop laughing. "I'm here, I'm right here. It's okay, you're alright." He lifted her back into his arms because he couldn't stand her being so far away. He held her tightly against him, reveling in the feel of her heart beating erratically against him, rocking her while his laughter turned to tears that he couldn't stop. Gods, what if he hadn't remembered? What if he'd been too late? He clutched her to him even after she went limp again, rocking back and forth, needing the comfort of her body near while the aftereffects of his adrenaline rush faded and he calmed. He kept one hand on her beating heart, assuring himself that she was still alive, feeling her soft breath against his cheek. Her eyes were closed and her lips still blue, but she was breathing, she was alive.

He knew he had to get them warm, he might have saved her from the water but if he didn't get her warm she could freeze to death. His mother had always told him he would do just that when, as a very young child, he would sneak out of the nursery when it was snowing and try to go swimming. His nanny-elf, Liddy, had always caught him before he could, however, and his mother would scold him something dreadful.

Still shaking from head to toe he lifted Hermione into his arms again and stumbled through the woods, trying to find a place dry enough to warm her, cursing the rain driving from above. He found a small shelter of trees and laid her down before casting a shield over them to protect them from the downpour.

Fire, he needed a fire. He Summoned sticks to him and dried them with a spell so intense they blew away and he had to retrieve them with another Summoning spell. When he finally managed to get the damn things in a pile he shouted _"Incendio!"_ and a huge fire roared to life, lighting a tree above him which he had to douse with a curse.

He pulled Hermione close to it, using his hands to dry her dress as they had done a few days ago. A few days? Had it really only been a few days? It felt like a lifetime since they had gotten here, every day stretching on for years. So much had changed; none more so than his feelings for the very witch he'd been tasked to murder. He no longer cared what happened to him, so long as she was safe and far beyond the reach of the Dark Lord. After everything she'd shown him in the last several days, he knew he'd give his life gladly for hers.

As soon and she was as dry as he could get her he transfigured a few twigs and rocks into blankets, not caring that the amount of magic he was using would alert the Trackers. Getting Hermione warm was more important. Slowly, her lips returned to a normal shade as he tucked the blankets around her and one underneath her and he busied himself drying his own garments on his body. He couldn't reach his back but he didn't dwell on it, he could deal. The heat from the fire had already warmed him so much he had stopped shaking.

Thinking quickly, Draco used every protective spell he could remember to form a bubble around them, hoping it would be enough to hold the monsters off. He knew he was too tired to fight and he had to keep Hermione safe while she recovered.

Exhausted, Draco lay beside Hermione and wrapped his arms around her. Her body still felt cold to him but he laid his hand over her heart again and was content with the feel of it beating. She unconsciously snuggled into his warmth, sighing with contentment, and he smiled. She was safe.

...

XOXO  
RynStar15


	14. Chapter 14

Hermione was sweltering. It was all she could think about: the heat and the pain. Her side burned something dreadful, her head pounded, and every part of her throbbed. She moaned and tried to throw off the blanket of heat surrounding her, but it persisted, engulfing her as if she'd been submerged in a boiling cauldron.

"Hermione?"

The voice sounded far off, as if coming from the end of a long tunnel. It was familiar and comforting, but she couldn't place it. Her head spun. Reels of colors flashed before her eyes as fingers of blackness consumed her once more.

The heat… Oh, the heat! Why couldn't she escape from it? It was everywhere, surrounding her like a mother swaddling her child. Her mother... Where was she? She tried to call out to her but her throat stuck. She swallowed and tried again, reaching out when she saw her face. It had been so long, so long since she'd last seen her…

"Mum," she croaked. She felt the tears forming but they didn't fall. A sharp pain split through her side, ripping her into teeny tiny pieces that floated along on a cloud of anguish.

 _Cool._ Something cool was touching her face. A hand. Her mother's?

"Gods, Hermione! You're burning up!"

No, not her mother. A man. There was a man here; his hand was on her forehead, in her hair. He left and she felt alone. She sunk back into the depths where the heat could no longer torment her.

Even the dark was filled with that all-consuming fire. And pain, so much pain, a pain that made her moan in misery, that made her want to rip at the source but she was too weak to move her arms.

Something brushed her and she jerked, afraid of what loomed in the dark. Were those men there, trying to hurt her again? Biting and scratching and screaming, there was so much screaming…

The someone was talking, soft words wrapped in smooth silk, a voice she knew, a voice which soothed her. Her face was bathed in something cold and the relief was unbelievable. She moaned her thanks, not able to remember the words she was supposed to say. Was she supposed to say something?

 _Hermione opened her eyes, gasping when the snake was there, Nagini, slithering over her lifeless body, curling between her legs and arms, wrapping around her neck…_

 _The snake! She had to kill the snake! It was her mission, she could not fail. Harry was counting on her, they all were. If she didn't kill the snake then Voldemort would win…She reached up to grab it where it was choking her but it disappeared in a wisp of smoke. She cried out in despair._

 _The hall was dark, one flickering torch to light her way. That one torch sent off waves of insurmountable heat. Would the heat follow her everywhere?_

 _It didn't matter; all that mattered was getting to the snake. The door was right in front of her, all she had to do was reach out and touch it, but something held her back, something that scared her and made her feel safe all at the same time. It could take her away from the snake, from the evil, from the killing. She could stay there in that frightening security and forget all about what she had to do._

 _Green eyes, brilliant green eyes, flashed before her. And a scar, messy, jet black hair. Harry. Harry lying on the cold stones in a pool of blood, his sightless emerald eyes staring up at her._

 _No! No, not Harry! Please not Harry!_

 _And then bright blue eyes stole the scene, staring at her, disappointment etched in every line of his drawn face. Ron, holding Harry, looking at her as fat tears rolled down his freckled cheeks._

 _"It's all your fault, Hermione. You failed and now he's dead. They're all dead," Rod croaked, cradling his dead friend, a sob wrenching from his chest_

 _The room was suddenly filled with members of the Order, the Weasleys, all lying dead, the blood pouring through the slates of wood beneath them, streaming down from the walls. Ron turned to his dead mother, his expression one of pain so intense it stuck Hermione down to her very core._

 _"It's your fault, you know. It's all your fault."_

 _A jet of green light hit Ron and he joined the others on the floor, unmoving, lifeless._

"No!" she screamed, the pain ripping through her, _they were gone, they were all gone, and it was all her fault…_

"Shh, Hermione, it's okay, you're alright, I'm here, right here."

That soothing voice bade to her, to take her to that safe place and hide away from the world. But she couldn't, there was something she had to do…

 _She was once again surrounded by the bodies of her loved ones. No, no, this couldn't be happening, they couldn't be dead. The snake! She had to get to the snake before it was too late._

 _"I can fix it!" she screamed to the broken faces around her. She had to._

 _She turned and ran from the room of death, tripping over the bodies of her parents who stared up at her._

 _"You killed us Hermione. We weren't even supposed to be here. We were just two normal people, happy, raising a beautiful little girl. And then you changed. You brought this evil to our home. It's your fault."_

 _My fault, my fault, my fault…_

A comforting hand touched her cheek and she flinched away. She didn't deserve it, she deserved the pain, the grief, the agony of her failure. But the hand was so familiar, so warm and strong. _No, you don't deserve it, you deserve this pain…_

She tried to pull away but she was too weak. He didn't understand that this was something that she had to do, what she was supposed to do. The snake would die.

 _The room cleared and it was empty but for a large fireplace across from her. The snake! It was there, lying on the carpet. She had to get it now, before it sensed her. She raised her wand, the Killing Curse on her lips when pain exploded in her side. She looked up. Wormtail! He had to die too! But she couldn't move, her feet fused to the floor. She was paralyzed! The snake slithered towards her, a malicious grin plastered on her serpentine face. She was done for, she knew it._

 _She had failed._

 _The snake reared back and struck her side again and again. Pain radiated throughout her body and she screamed, afraid to die, afraid of the pain. Wormtail was laughing, standing above her, his stringy hair falling across his round face and from a distance, someone was calling her name..._

The voice grew louder, her name starting to sound funny to her own ears. Her-my-o-nee. Her-MY-o-neeeeeee. She laughed. What a funny sounding name. Who would name their child that? Hermione, Hermione, Hermione. She laughed again.

And then the black consumed her once more.

...

Draco plunged the cloth back into the bowl of water he had conjured over an hour ago. He wrung it out, folded it, and placed it back on Hermione's blazing forehead. Her cheeks were bright pink, tendrils of curly hair clingy to her face and head. Her lips were slightly parted, a stuttered breath falling between them. She slept again. Finally.

He was going out of his mind with worry. He had first woken at dusk to her thrashing, claiming it was "Hot, too hot." He had been warm himself, having placed them so close to the fire. So he had pulled the two of them back and thought nothing more of it, glad to lay his exhausted body down again next to hers and fall back to sleep.

The second time she had woken him it had been night, the moon floating low in the sky. She had called for her mum. That was the first sign to him that something was wrong. He'd sat up and noticed how flushed she was and felt her head. She was burning. Fever.

She had been so cold before he wasn't all that concerned that her body had overheated in its attempt to stay warm. So he had bathed her head with cool water, removed a blanket and fallen back to sleep, his body drained from its earlier struggle.

He hadn't slept more than maybe twenty minutes when he was wrenched awake again. She was thrashing and screaming. She shouted for Potter and Weasle, she kept saying over and over that it was her fault, that she was sorry, that she had failed.

And then she had spoken the name. _Nagini._

Draco had started, his mouth going dry and his hand stilling where it had been brushing back her sweaty hair.

Why was _Nagini_ in her dreams, of all things? How did she know the name of the Dark Lord's pet snake? And _why?_

His heart had sunk even lower as she had muttered the name Wormtail. What was going on? How did she know about them?

And why did she keep screaming that she was sorry?

He was terrified. She was hallucinating. But her hallucinations were all too real.

Her eyes rolled in her head and she refused to lie still. She would cry out in what he could only assume was pain and tears rolled down her face. He had done the only thing her could think of and continued to wipe her face with the cool water, letting it drip down into her mouth. The night had grown fiercely cold, there was no reason she should be this hot.

Her body rocked with shivers and he threw on the other blanket to keep her warm even though her face still burned with fever. He was close to panicking. He didn't know what to do; he'd never taken care of a sick person before. He'd never even really _seen_ a sick person before. Sure, he'd made Goyle walk Crabbe to the hospital wing when he'd started puking his guts up in the fourth year and told Pansy to see Madame Pomfrey when she'd had a cold because her snotty face had disgusted him, but he'd never been this close to a situation in which the person was so sick they were hallucinating.

After a while she started laughing and his fear redoubled. He had no idea what to do. The laughter turned to tears and his heart broke, his eyes searching the dark forest around him as if someone would pop out of the bushes and take over for him, nurse Hermione back to health. But there was no one around, he was all she had.

So Draco kept bathing her face with a shaky hand until she finally settled, succumbing to sleep.

His stomach rumbled. Gods, he was so hungry. They hadn't eaten since dinner the night before. He had never gone this many days with such little food. He felt weak and shaky and his whole body was covered in bruises and welts from the rocks. He wondered vaguely where their little boat had gotten to.

Draco stood and decided to look for some food. He conjured bluebell flames in his hand to light his way as he stepped into the woods, making sure that he could keep an eye on Hermione wherever he went. He knew the Trackers would sense all the magic he had done, but there was nothing he could do now except pray his charms kept them from prying eyes.

He saw movement and Draco's heart lurched, but it was just a rabbit. _A rabbit!_

Knowing that if Hermione ever found out he'd slaughtered the furry creature she would throw a fit, he made up his mind and threw a Killing Curse at the terrified rodent and gathered it up. Now he just had to figure out how to cook the damn thing.

Sitting back at the fire he used _Diffindo!_ to slice off the skin. It was a bloody, nasty mess but he finally got to the muscle below which he threw on a conjured metal pan and hovered over the fire. The smell of the cooking meat made his stomach ache, he was so hungry.

He looked back over at Hermione who was still quiet. He knew she hadn't eaten for as long as he and she would need sustenance to fight the fever.

While waiting for the meat he conjured a goblet and filled it with water, bringing it to her lips while propping her up so she wouldn't choke. At first the water just fell down her chin but then she started and began drinking it greedily and he had to take it away before she made herself sick. As he laid her back down she cried out in pain. Draco's brows creased. Had she been hurt in the river? He knew about the bump on her head, the swelling had already come down so it didn't worry him overmuch. But maybe she had been hurt elsewhere. He pulled back the covers, peeling away her cloak and was nearly ill.

Blood soaked her dress and he suddenly remembered her grabbing her side in the alley after he had helped her off the ground. He recalled her wrapping herself in the cloak, crossing her arms in the boat, facing away from him... She hadn't gotten this in the river, she'd had it long before.

His hands were shaky as he ripped the material away from the area. He moaned when he saw the gash. It was well over a dozen centimeters long and swollen. Pus oozed out of the open wound; thick, dark blood congealing at the sight. His stomach lurched and suddenly the cooking rabbit that was now flipping itself on the metal pan didn't sound so good. The smell coming from her wound was acrid and suddenly his anger was beginning to reach alarming heights.

Why had she kept this from him? Why hadn't she told him, or, at the very least, healed it herself?

It was infected. He didn't know how to treat infected wounds. And because she was too damn stubborn to tell him she was injured, she was now hallucinating and could very possibly succumb from infection. He didn't know how bad it was, had no idea how to help her. He was completely thrown into new territory. He knew nothing about healing something this severe. He could suck a man's eyeballs out of their sockets but he couldn't do more than lessen swelling or close a small cut. He had never worried about it; if he was hurt one of the house elves or Madame Pomfrey would take care of it and he had never cared about other people being hurt before. And now, when it mattered, when the one person who mattered needed him, he was next to useless. Even if he _could_ close a wound this severe, the infection would be trapped in her body, wasting her away with him powerless to stop it.

He shakily grabbed the cloth resting on the ground next to Hermione where it had fallen off and dipped it into the bowl he'd conjured. He washed the wound as carefully as possible but she still flinched and moaned in pain. Blood still leaked out of it slowly, the swollen lips of the cut a bright angry red. He tried to clean out the pus but it kept coming. Running a hand through his hair he watched as the pan over the fire fell to the ground, the meat finished. He didn't know what to do; he was at an utter loss. He cursed Hermione with every word he could think of for doing this to herself. When she woke up he would kill her.

 _If_ she woke up.

He now knew it was a considerable possibility she could die from this. He'd seen countless men die from infection. Men tossed into dirty cells with open wounds would be dragged out later and laughed at, their wounds now nothing more than a mass of black and green. Draco had always found this revolting and refused to go to those "meetings" after his first visit.

Draco knew he had to cover the wound, stop the bleeding. That much he could figure out. He transfigured a stick into a roll of gauze like what Madame Pomfrey had once used to wrap around his arm after that vicious creature Buckwheat, or whatever, had attacked him in the third year. He smiled remembering how much he had milked it and the simpering Pansy who did everything for him for weeks until he couldn't stand her ugly mug around him anymore.

And then his sweet tempered Hermione had gone and sucker-punched him right in the face when his father had managed to get the hippogriff killed. Gods, but this witch took his breath away. How hadn't he fallen for her right then?

Levitating Hermione a few inches from the ground, Draco tore her gown down the middle, yanking the material away, and wrapped the gauze around and around her body, watching as the blood seeped through the first few layers until eventually the white overtook the red. He tucked the end in and lowered her gently. She moaned again, her legs coming up to push at the ground in pain. It was then he finally realized that she was all but naked under his gaze, her cunt exposed for all to see, her bruised breasts sticking up proudly in the night air. When Draco saw the bruises and bite marks his anger surged again. He wished he could murder those sick bastards again for what they'd done to her. A thousand hells would never been enough for them.

His hand brushed lightly over her abused breasts, healing them as he had the other injuries, wishing he could just as easily erase her memories of her brutal attack.

He was caught off guard when her chest arched up to his touch and she moaned for an entirely different reason. Smiling, Draco quickly _Scorgified_ her dress and mended it before he did something he would regret.

He pulled the blankets back over her and grabbed the now cold food, scarfing it down, ignoring his protesting stomach. He broke up small pieces and rubbed them against Hermione's closed lips. She chewed and swallowed a few bites before she turned her head away and slept on. Draco finished the meat knowing he would be thankful for it later and sat next to Hermione, watching her through the night.

...

When dawn came Draco knew they had stayed too long already. They were far behind from his screw up, although how the bloody hell was he supposed to know? He had lost the map in the river and now he had no idea where he was supposed to be headed. He tried to wake Hermione several times to ask her, but she did nothing more than mutter nonsense and moan. Her fever still raged and he feared for her life. He didn't know how long a person could go with a fever but he figured the sooner he could get it down, the better. He knew he couldn't take her into the river to cool her with an open wound; the bandages wouldn't do much to protect her from further infection. He'd replaced them twice throughout the night and he did so again as the sky began to lighten. He drenched the fire and Levitated Hermione, wrapping a blanket around her to keep her warm. He was walking before the sun had risen.

Draco hiked along the river, knowing they were supposed to have stopped at the bend. He jogged a few times but his aching limbs and right knee screamed at him when he did this and he fell back to walking as fast as he could. Hermione floated along in front of him, sometimes she slept, other times she would toss and turn, shouting and moaning. She called out to her friends and murmured gibberish about "Whore-crooks," whatever that meant.

He stumbled up steep hills, his stomach dropping when he saw the fall that had so nearly gotten Hermione killed. It took him a good portion of the day to get to the bend, stopping several times to rest and make Hermione drink water. He was forced to change her bandages twice more when he noticed the blood and pus seeping through her gown.

Every twig that snapped, every bird that chirped, made him jump for he knew it was only a matter of time before the Trackers came back and he didn't think they could escape this time. He was too weak, too tired. His muscles ached, his right knee swollen and angry from hitting something in the river. How could he protect both of them against numerous wizards? Hermione had always bailed him out, but now he was on his own, responsible for the both of them and he was terrified at the thought.

When he finally reached the bend he collapsed on the ground bringing Hermione down gently next to him. Dusk was near; he knew he'd taken far too long, his knee impairing him and the rest of the bruises and cuts making themselves apparent.

Hermione started moaning again.

"Draco?" she croaked. He crawled to her, placing his frozen hand on her blazing face.

"I'm here," he assured her, his thumb tracing her brow.

"Draco...I have to...tell you..." her words fell away and he shook her gently.

"What? What do you have to tell me?"

Her eyes opened, glassy and heavy, focusing for a second on him.

"Draco…"

"Stay with me, Hermione," he begged, cupping her face. "I need your help. Tell me how to get to Alvida."

"Alvida..."

"Yes, Alvida. We're trying to get to her. Where is she? Once we get to the bend, what do we have to do?"

"The bend?" she croaked, her forehead wrinkled in confusion.

"Yes, the bend, the bend in the river," Draco said shakily, his grip tightening to keep her focused. "Where do we go from there?"

"Sari..."

"Yes, Sari, Sari told you where to go. What did she say?" He was getting frustrated. He was tired and hungry, everything hurt, and he was angry at Hermione for doing this to herself and putting them in this situation, terrified that he couldn't help her. He needed her and he hated himself for it.

She licked her chapped lips and blinked, obviously trying to clear her head. "The bend. At the bend we need to…to go east. There will be a road..."

"Yes?" Draco pressed, trying to keep her from sinking back into oblivion, but she was slipping away quickly. "What about the road?"

Her eyes closed again and he shook her shoulders, trying not to jar her side too much.

"Hermione, you have to stay awake, just for a minute. What about the road? Where is the road? Do we follow the road? Where do we follow it to?"

She began to shudder violently and Draco scooped her into his arms and held her for a moment. He knew he had to keep going. They only had tonight and the day after before Alvida Eynon died. She might have already sent the letter with the Time Turner in it to France, they might be too late. They had no idea if she'd be able to fix the shattered necklace still thankfully in his pocket and at this rate, it would be a miracle if he even found her.

Draco buried his face in Hermione's hair trying to draw the strength she always had in endless supplies from her. He needed her Gryffindor courage. He had never had to be responsible before, someone had always been there to tell him what to do, to point the way. His first taste of really being alone had been their sixth year on his mission and he had definitely not shone through. He wondered how Hermione did it every day, going through life with so much strength and courage. And for the first time in his life, he wondered how Potter dealt with what he had to.

If Potter and Hermione could find the strength to battle the Dark Lord, he could do this, he had to. They were so close. He would find the road and follow it. Maybe he would figure it out from there or Hermione would wake up again and tell him. But her fever still raged and he doubted she was going to wake again. He clung to her for a moment longer, willing her to be alright. Alvida might know how to cure her. If she could figure out how to make a Time Turner she could damn well concoct a potion to help Hermione!

Levitating Hermione again, Draco got shakily to his feet, his knee threatening to give out. It was strange how he hadn't even noticed it while he had been worrying over Hermione throughout the night.

Draco walked on in the darkness, stumbling with fatigue. Hermione stayed absolutely still, no longer moaning or thrashing, no more incomprehensible words. He worried over her blood loss, her face almost iridescent in the moonlight where it wasn't flushed with fever.

He looked at the stars, dimly remembering that the star Horatio lay to the east of Orion's belt. He found the belt, thanking Pansy Parkinson for once in his life, and found the bright star. He grinned, knowing without a doubt that they were going the right way.

When he found the road he jumped, punching the air with a grin on his face, nearly dropping Hermione as he briefly lost concentration. The jubilation he felt at doing something right and doing it on his own gave him a fresh burst of energy. He continued along the dirt road going east-southeast.

The moon was bright, nearly full. He grinned at the irony of a full moon on All Hallows Eve, the night a witch a burned to death. It was weird to think that they would meet this woman and she would die the very next day.

Draco lost track of time, his mind wandering along various paths. He thought about Hermione and what he would have to do when they got back. He couldn't kill her, he knew that for a fact and he also knew that a second failure would mean death for not only him, but his parents as well. Could he condemn them all to a painful, torturous death for her life?

The answer was a resounding _yes._ The three of them put together would never equal the person Hermione was and would become. His father he didn't care about much but his mother...He knew she had tried over and over to keep him from learning the things he did, but once he had chosen his path she had followed along blindly, spinelessly, just as she had with his father. He doubted very much whether she ever would have become a Death Eater had it not been by his father's insistence. He was sure she would be on the Dark Lord's side, but she was far too weak to have become a fully-fledged supporter on her own.

Draco would do whatever he could to keep Hermione safe. His life line was short, but Hermione deserved a long, full life, away from all this. She deserved to be happy, get married, have children. It tore him up inside to know that she would never do any of that with him. It would probably be Weasley or Potter.

Until then, he had to keep her alive.

He stopped for a moment to check her bandages. The bleeding had slowed, but not enough. She had bled through the layers of gauze again. He was glad his Charms and Transfiguration marks were always high as he conjured more gauze to wrap around the wound. With the bright moon looking down on them he checked the gash. A black crust was beginning to develop around the cut and he cringed. It was bad. It had swollen even more, pressing out of her like a tumor. The skin on her stomach seemed thin, whiter than usual. She had lost way, way too much blood. He quickly wrapped her back up and covered her with the blanket.

He took a moment for himself to brush the hair from her face. He wished she would wake up, look at him and tell him it was going to be alright, that she was going to be okay. But it was the all-too terrifying truth that there was a chance she'd never wake again. His poor skills at healing couldn't help her and the only person he had every loved was slipping away before his eyes.

It was a sharp punch to the chest to hear the admission aloud in his head. He'd known it deep down but had purposefully refused to look into it, knowing their short-lived affair was doomed from the start. The closer he got to her the harder it would be when the time came to let her go. But things had spiraled beyond his control and there was no point in denying it anymore. How could he not love this witch? She was beautiful, intelligent, and courageous, the most loving and selfless person he'd ever met. She'd seen a side of him he hadn't even realized was still there, had helped him pull that human part of him back to the surface. She'd saved his soul as well as his life.

And now he was watching her slip away.

He refused to give up on her, though. She was strong, the strongest person he had ever met. She could make it through this, she had to!

Before he could dwell any longer he started back up again. He had no idea how far to go or what he was looking for. Hermione had saved his arse by telling him this much but now he had to figure the rest out. His father had always tried to teach him the art of Sensory, being able to step into a room and feel the magical presence like the Trackers did. Draco had never picked it up very well, never really caring, thinking it was a useless art. He beat himself up for not listening to the one advice his father had ever given him that might be useful. If he could feel the magic coming from Alvida, maybe he could follow it and find her. He hadn't come this far just to give up now, he had to try.

So he lowered Hermione gently to the ground and closed his eyes. He drew himself inside his own body, feeling. He felt the air, the trees moving, the moon shining down on him. He began to feel the tingling awareness of magic, his own, that he had just used to Levitate Hermione. It was weak, for the spell was a simple one. Alvida Eynon would most certainly use powerful magic. Draco widened his search. He felt an animal slinking around in the darkness, but he felt no magic. Maybe she was too far away?

It was then that he felt it. It barreled into him like a storm rolling into the high seas causing angry tidal waves. Her magic was strong, he could sense it. The next part was what he had never fully picked up. Where. Where was she doing all this magic? It was far, he could tell, but not immensely so. He pushed harder; trying to feel, feel where it was.

Up ahead, it was coming from in front of him and a little to his left. He had to keep walking. He pulled himself back into the night where Hermione lay limply on the ground before him. He Levitated her once more and walked quickly, excited that he now knew about where she was. He was close.

Twenty minutes later Draco stopped again. He put Hermione down and tried to sense Alvida Eynon's magic again. Draco pushed towards it faster this time, knowing the feeling he was looking for, the punch-in-the-stomach power that radiated in waves towards him. He was so close. She was in the woods, off the path, hidden somewhere in the trees.

As he began to pull back to himself he heard the unmistakable _pops!_ that announced the arrival of the Trackers. Draco wrenched himself back into the present, giving himself a head rush. He swung his arms wide, screaming _Impedimenta!_ not knowing where they were coming from. More than a half dozen men flew back as his vision cleared and he could see more rushing towards them from the corner of his eye, spells flying around him, the men shouting in glee. Draco shot Stunners off to the side as he ducked and gathered Hermione up over his shoulder, knowing he was probably injuring her cut further but he had no choice. He couldn't fight them all alone and that led to flight. If he could get to Alvida, maybe she could help. She was strong, he had felt it, and with the stone in the leather pouch attached to his belt she would know they were friends.

Draco threw up a Shield Charm and ran as fast as he could toward where he had felt her magic stem. He heard more and more Trackers Apparate around him, their war cries ringing in the air. It seemed as though Draco's slaughter of their friends had garnered their attention. They were obviously not leaving their capture to a couple of men any longer. It seemed they were pulling out all the stops and fear clenched in his chest knowing he could never fight them off. Even if he and Hermione were in the prime of health they were only two compared to dozens. Injured and alone, his mind focused solely on Hermione's safety, Draco was no match for the angry mob.

Draco forced himself to stay calm as spells bounced off his shield. He ran for the trees hoping for their shelter to help protect them but before he could make it a spell shattered his barrier and sent him flying. He fell to the ground, Hermione underneath him, and knew this was it; he had gotten them as far as he could go. If he could convince them to let Hermione go maybe Alvida would find her and help her, but he knew it was the end of the line for himself. He would face death like a Malfoy, with pride.

Draco rolled to a seated position placing himself in front of Hermione. The men were circling. It looked like a Death Eater gathering. They all had black hoods that covered their faces and the largest one came to stand directly in front of him.

"Not gonna try ter run this time?" he cackled.

Draco looked up at the man who seemed to be the leader and rose slowly, his hands up in surrender.

"Leave my woman be," Draco implored lowly, knowing in his heart they would never let her go. "I will come with you freely, you can do whatever you wish to me, just leave her alone. She is sick, she cannot harm you. Let her die our death in the woods where she belongs." Draco wished stupidly that she would wake and figure a way out of this mess like she always did. But it was a futile hope; she lay just as still as ever, her breath shallow, her own death pending.

The men around him roared with laughter. "Yeh think we're daft? After wha' ye done ta the las' men we sent? We know ye witches're up ta sumthin. Gervais, c'mon over here and give this lass here a good shocker, see iffin that'll make her lose her act."

A man started forward and Draco Stunned him so powerfully the men standing next to him were knocked off their feet.

"Don't you fucking touch her!" he screamed, rage consuming him. He'd never let any of these men touch her again. "I have powers you could not imagine. Take me, but leave her. You have my word I will come quietly if you leave her untouched. Or you can test my strength. I'm not from your world. I do not take prisoners. What I did to the last three was merciful compare to what I will do to you. You will experience pain that will make you wish you were dead and then I will make it hurt a thousand fold. I can do things you couldn't imagine in your worst nightmares."

The men in the circle seemed hesitant, looking towards their leader for an answer.

"Leave the girl," Draco growled dangerously. "Or you will pay."

The man was silent for a moment, debating. "I don' believe ye."

"No?" Draco snapped. His anger had finally reached its limit. He raised his palm to the man in front of him and squeezed his fingers. The man stumbled back a few centimeters, those around him fumbling back. His beefy hand came up to his throat where he made a gagging noise and his mouth opened as if he were going to retch. Slowly, his intestines began pouring out of him like a snake, pooling at his feet while he gargled and screamed in pain. Cries of terror rang around him and a few men rushed forward to help their leader but Draco flung them back with his other hand and they burst into flame.

Draco felt his strength draining but knew if they surmised as much he was done for. With his right hand still drawing out the large man's innards he lifted his left, enveloping several men in a Cruciatus Curse, needing to cause pain, needing to see them hurt as much as he. A few men Apparated away in terror, but several men rushed forward.

Draco bellowed and brought both his hands down creating a wall of wind knocking all the men back into the trees with screams of pain as invisible daggers ripped at their skin. Draco fell to his knees, spent. The men would recover any moment and he would have nothing more to fight with. He crawled shakily to Hermione and placed his body over hers, creating the only protection he had left. He could hear the yells of the angry men as they rushed him and he clenched his eyes shut against the pain he was about to endure, clutching Hermione, telling her wordlessly how much he loved her, how sorry he was that he couldn't save her, that he had failed her.

A heartbeat later the only thing he could hear was choking, then silence.

Draco looked up. He saw a woman gliding towards them and he knew who she was before she reached down her hand to help him up. Her emerald green gown flowed behind her, her dark red curls surrounding a face carved by the Gods. She was tall, nearly as tall as he, and graceful. Though her feet touched the ground she seemed to have floated over to them. He took her smooth hand and stared into her green eyes, too exhausted and dazed to speak.

"You must be Draco."

...

XOXO

RynStar15


	15. Chapter 15

Draco's head reeled. She knew his name. How did she know his name? The beautiful witch smiled at him.

"I am Alvida Eynon, I have waited for you for a long time, Draco. You took longer than I'd anticipated so I have been on the lookout, but you hardly needed my assistance it seems."

"No," he croaked. "I needed it. I was spent, I had nothing left. Thanks for, you know..." He gestured helplessly towards the unconscious men scattered on the ground.

"It was the least I could do. You have incredible power and it will come to good use. But you must use it in the correct way, Draco. To have that much power can go to one's head. Keep grounded."

He nodded. He knew he'd gotten carried away, the orally-eviscerated man lying on the ground not five meters away evidence to that cold fact. But the thought of those men touching Hermione again had unleashed that part of him she'd so nearly tucked away.

He bent over Hermione's form, feeling her blazing forehead again.

"Can you help her?" he ground out. Her breathing was so shallow...

The witch kneeled next to him and placed her hands over Hermione, a golden glow emitting from her palms, her eyes closed. When she withdrew she sighed. "I will do what I can for her. She must live to carry out her destiny. We must hurry for I fear if we tarry much longer her life will be out of my hands to save."

Hermione Levitated off the ground without Draco having to do anything, a good thing too because he was incredibly weak and didn't think he could carry her. He stumbled to his feet and nearly jogged after Alvida who once again seemed to simply skim the ground rather than walk on it. She was much younger than he had imagined, hardly much older than Sari and Milo, possibly late 30's. And much more beautiful than he could ever have thought. He had pictured some old hag leaning over a steaming cauldron who would strike them dead as soon as they walked in. Alvida, however, had already known who he was, the stone he had worked so hard to protect useless in his pocket.

She led them through a narrow path in the woods he would have never seen and to a small cottage in a clearing. She hurried him through the door into a many roomed house that looked much bigger on the inside than it had on the outside. She swept passed him and preceded after a floating Hermione into a back bedroom where she laid her gently on a soft bed. With a wave of her hand Hermione was unclothed and Alvida looked her over, taking in her bruises and cuts from the river, the large blood-stained bandage covering her side, the mangled body that he had revered two long nights ago.

"Draco, please fetch me some boiling water from the cauldron in the living room. You will find a rag next to it as well."

Draco hurried to do her bidding, nearly tripping over his feet in his haste. A cauldron of boiling water that he swore he had not seen there before sat over the crackling fire, a small bowl next to it on the ground. Grabbing a ladle from the mantle he scooped some into the bowl. It took forever it seemed, every time he went to put more in there was less than there had been.

He was way too tired. Now _he_ was the one hallucinating.

Finally, the bowl was filled and he hurried back down the hall to the room, handing the bowl to Alvida who dipped the rag into the water and slowly began to clean the cut.

Draco nearly toppled over as all the blood drained out of his head.

The cut. It was gone. Replaced by an ugly scar. It was puffy and red but the gash, the pus, the black rotting skin had disappeared.

"H-how did you..."

"It was an ancient curse, one that the Tracker's use often. It cannot be healed by regular magic, only those who know are trained in the art of _Arsa Leigheas_. My grandmother taught me after my mother died. It is an old art that I fear will be lost in a few generations."

When Alvida finished cleaning the dried blood, she covered Hermione with a large coverlet. With a flick of her wrist a potion was in her hand and she was administering it to Hermione. If she could get the potion that easily then she could have done the same with the water... She had obviously just wanted him out of the room. He felt a bit miffed but she had healed Hermione, that was all that mattered.

"Will she be alright?" he asked nervously. The cut was gone but still...an ancient curse?

"She has lost a lot of blood. I will give her a Blood Replenishing Potion and she must take what I am giving now her twice a day for three days to help rid her body of the evil toxins of the curse. I will give you the supply. Make sure she takes it or everything I have done will be for naught."

He nodded. "When will she wake?"

"Soon, I hope. Her body needs rest. The fever should ease soon as well, if I wasn't too late. We will see." Alvida gave her the rest of the potions that had appeared on the bedside table and motioned for him to follow her out of the room. He was reluctant to leave Hermione but Alvida, sensing his hesitation, said "There's nothing more we can do for her. I will know if she wakes."

 _If..._

The elder witch led him back into the living room and sat, conjuring a tea tray with cookies. She poured them both tea and handed Draco his. He took a sip and the warmth washed over him, sliding into every pore, caressing his bruised skin, massaging his abused muscles. He drank more greedily and the kettle came up to refill his cup. His entire body relaxed as if sighing in relief.

"Feel better?"

"Much. This is great stuff," Draco said breathlessly rubbed his knee. The swelling and pain was gone as were his bruises and cuts, his stiff muscles now humming in delight.

"Do you have the stone?" Alvida asked.

Draco nodded, reaching into the pouch at his side but she stilled him with a raised hand.

"As Milo explained, it is now yours. You and Hermione are now Eripio, you will need it to find other protectors such as yourself.

He stared at the witch stupidly, his mind feeling thick and muddled. "How do you know so much about us? How do you know who we are?"

Alvida sat back in her chair, her eyes on him as if pondering his question.

"Your and Hermione's arrival here was foretold long ago in the stars. You might say I am a Seer, but that would not be correct. I do not sense as Seer's do, I cannot predict the future. I merely read what the fates foretell. You and Hermione have been in my dreams since I was a little girl. I have looked so forward to meeting you two, I am sorry that the circumstances are less than perfect."

Draco shook his head, trying to clear it and follow what she was saying. "Sari said the same thing. What do you mean about my and Hermione's arrival here being 'foretold?' I mean, it was a complete accident we ended up here at all-"

Alvida smiled, giving him an intriguing but not unkind look. "Come, now, Draco. You understand the art of Divination. You know of Prophecies. I read yours long ago. It was no accident that you two arrived here."

Suddenly much more exhausted than he had been before, Draco scrubbed his face. "But why? Why bring us here? What good could it possibly do other than to try and get us killed?"

She smiled again. "It is not something I can explain to you. It is something you must learn for yourself. I know you are tired of hearing it, but you will understand soon enough."

He sighed, trying not to be frustrated, but he knew enough about Divination to understand that it was not always best to know everything. He was eager to learn more, however.

"So is there anything you _can_ tell us?"

"What would you like to know?"

"You don't mind if I interrogate you?"

Her wide red lips curved almost seductively, the kettle coming to refill his empty mug once more. "Not at all."

Draco stared at the floating kettle and thought of the powerful magic she'd used to heal Hermione. "Aren't you afraid of the Tracker's sensing your magic?"

She laughed, a full bellied musical sound. "I do not fear them. They are merely minions for the prejudice law of the land. My dwellings can only be seen by those whom I wish to see them. We are safe here, I assure you."

 _Sure, so safe that you'll be burned alive here less than twenty-four hours from now,_ Draco thought, not able to meet her eye.

She caught his eye as if knowing where his thoughts were headed. "Do you know...?" he asked.

"Yes. Tomorrow night my walls will be breached."

"But you're not going to do anything about it? You're just going to sit here while you are burned to the ground?"

"I didn't say that now, did I?"

"But isn't that the reason you sent the Time Turner to France? I mean, did you already send it?"

"I sent one to France, yes."

Draco's heart stopped. "There are more?" he asked tightly, hardly daring to believe.

"Only one more."

"So we can get back? You can send us back?"

At this her knowing smile left her, a strained look replacing it. She sat forward and took his hand in hers.

"Draco, I want you to listen to me. This Time Turner is not perfect. It will be worked on for centuries to come; I have merely put forth the layout. It is not like the one you have resting in your pouch there. You can only go once. One place, one time. If it does not work, I do not know what will happen. You two shall be the first people to try it if you so wish to do so."

"Well, I mean we have to try, don't we?" he said, uneasy at the thought of being thrust into another different time, stuck there as well. He didn't fancy another venture to find another way home. He'd had enough time traveling to last him a lifetime. "It's our only chance to get back, isn't it?"

He could feel that she was holding something back and a sympathetic look lined her features. "I will not sway your minds nor hold you back from anything you wish to do. You have a choice. You can go back to your former life, to the sorrow, the killing, the pain, or you can stay here with Hermione. You two will be free from the ties of responsibility that pull you apart. You can be together with no one to say otherwise. This is your choice."

Draco wrinkled his brow. "All of yours and Sari's talk about the prophecies and our destinies…if we don't go back, how will we fulfill them?"

Her features looked pained and he knew she knew something he probably didn't want to know. "It is true the prophecies have been made, but you still have a choice. You have your free will."

"But, if we don't go back…what will happen with the war?" he asked slowly.

She smiled again sadly at him. "It is not something I have been foretold. The Dark War rages on even now without you, whether you return or not it will have an end one way or the other. The only thing I do know is that should you and Hermione return to your destiny, there will be much sorrow before it is fulfilled. I feel it would be unfair to allow you to return without telling you."

Draco took his hand back and stood up, for the first time since this whole thing started, without an ounce of pain. He paced. What was she saying to him? Why was she putting this in his head? On his shoulders? He had never once thought about the possibility of not going back. Of course they had to go back, this wasn't their time, they had obligations, people counting on them...

He stopped pacing, staring outside the window into the night, knowing it wouldn't be night for much longer. The trees undulated in the breeze, their leaves bright orange and yellow and red, several detaching from their homes and floating slowly down to rest with those who had also found a sanctuary on the forest floor.

They could be like those leaves, he and Hermione. Both belonging to different trees, they had been ripped off and united on the ground where they could be together without the difference of their origins to separate them. They could stay there, together, happy, in a simpler time. Here, they could be together, nothing to hold them back. He wouldn't have to worry that his love for her would bring her death, wouldn't have to worry what his father might think, or that the Dark Lord had sent him to kill her in the first place. He wouldn't worry about losing her in the battle to come or about breaking her heart when he left her, as he knew he must do when they, _if_ they, returned.

His hands came to his hair as they always did when he was frustrated or unsure. Why _couldn't_ they stay? What was so wrong with wanting a better life, for taking that chance when it was offered to them? He could make her happy, he knew, if he were rid of his shackles of duty. He could wake every morning beside her and kiss her eyelids, her hair, slip inside her as she woke, treasure her body and her heart every single day for the rest of their lives. They could live close to Sari and Milo, learn this new time as they did, and Hermione would love being close to them, he knew she'd grown fond of them in their short time together. He could get used to the damnable hose, he thought with a grin. It would be worth it to see Hermione wrapped prettily in dresses, knowing he only had to slip his hands beneath to find her warm and wet and waiting.

He would love her every single day and they would be without fear.

But if they didn't return, the Dark Lord might win. Milo had said Hermione was a vital instrument in the war, they needed her to take the sick bastard down. And he knew in his heart neither of them could live with that guilt haunting them every day.

But what if she never knew? What if he didn't tell her…?

He hadn't even heard her rise but Alvida was there, her form silhouetted behind him in the glass, a sad smile on her face.

"Talk to her about it."

"She's awake?" he asked excitedly, whipping around.

She nodded and Draco tore down the hallway to her room with his heart in his throat, Alvida's voice only stalling him for a moment.

"The rooms have Silencing Charms, you will have your privacy. Please, take your time."

He nodded his thanks, unable to speak, then ripped open the door and looked down at Hermione's tiny form all but swallowed up in the massive bed where she was just beginning to stir.

"Draco..." she whispered, not yet noticing his presence.

"I'm here," he said breathlessly, rushing to her side, sitting next to her on the bed, one of his hands grasping hers and the other one coming up to stroke her face. It was warm, but no longer hot. The fever had broken. She was awake, she was alive, she'd survived…

She looked around confusedly, her eyes glassy, her lids heavy. "What...what's happening? Where are we?"

"We made it; we're at Alvida Eynon's cottage. She saved you, saved us."

"Saved...what do you mean?" she tried to sit up but he pressed her back. "What happened? How did we get here...?"

"What's the last thing you remember?"

Hermione lifted a hand to her forehead, rubbing it as she thought back. "The river, I was in the water, it was freezing, I couldn't think... I couldn't find air, I was drowning, and then I hit my head..."

"Do you remember anything after that?" he asked, wondering if she recalled talking about Wormtail and Nigini….

"No, everything went black. I don't even know how I got to shore…did I?" she looked up at him.

"Well, you didn't quite make it yourself," he admitted sheepishly, suddenly embarrassed as her eyes glistened and she smiled.

"You saved me."

He looked away self-consciously. "Nothing you haven't done for me. Suppose it was my turn."

She reached up and cradled his cheek. "Thank you," she whispered, her eyes brimming with love and admiration. "And we're with Alvida? You got us here? How on earth…?"

He told her everything that had happened since he pulled her from the river, leaving out the part about making a man regurgitate his own digestive tract. And the rabbit.

"Why didn't you tell me?" he growled when he'd finished, feeling that same anger he'd felt back in the forest bubble forth.

Tears of shame welled up in her eyes. "I didn't want you to worry. We had to get to Alvida and after everything that had happened...I didn't think it was this bad. I just didn't want to be a burden."

He cursed harshly. "Didn't want to be a _'burden?'_ Fuck's sake, Hermione, what do you think you were when I had to Levitate your arse through the woods? You weren't a burden when I had to stay up all night to your screaming while I went out of my mind with worry? Hermione, if I hadn't gotten to Alvida soon enough, not only would she be dead, but you would be too. You could have _died,_ do you not understand this? Do you have any idea how close I was to losing you? Do you have any idea what you put me through by keeping this from me? Your damn stubborn pride nearly killed us both!"

Guilt assailed him as he watched tears leak down her face. But she had to know, had to understand the pain he went through nearly losing her. She had to know that sometimes it was alright to be weak, to ask for help. However, the words died in his throat when she spoke.

"I'm sorry, Draco," she whispered brokenly. "I'm so sorry I caused you so much trouble. I could have ruined everything, I put you in danger, you could have been killed. It's all my fault, I know, and I am so, so sorry..." She looked up at him with a look so full of shame it stuck him to his core. "Can you ever forgive me?"

He snapped. "Bleeding hell, Hermione!" he bellowed, tearing to his feet, unable to look at her pained expression any longer. "When will you ever get it through your head?"

He watched her jump from the corner of his eye at his harsh words, the tears ceasing as she cringed against the headboard. He continued pacing, his voice rising the angrier he got.

"The whole world does not rest on your shoulders! You don't always have to be responsible for taking care of everyone all the time. Life will not cease to exist if you need help from someone else. We all need it at some point! I sure as hell needed it at the gallows! Can't you learn from my stupid mistakes? My pathetic blunders in trying to kill Dumbledore on my own? My selfishness in thinking I could get home on my own without your knowledge? Why do you _always_ have to be the best, be the one with all the answers? You're only nineteen, for fucks sake! You can't do it all; no matter how much you try. You're going to kill yourself thinking this way. How many times has this happened? How many times have you been near death because you believed that you had to do it all? How many times have you made yourself sick trying to find all the answers? Because here's one for you; _not everything has an answer._ Is that too much for your Know-It-All brain to take? Can you wrap your mind around that?"

Draco panted, his anger coming out in bursts that he couldn't contain. Why couldn't she understand that she wasn't responsible for the world? Why did she have to be so...so... _Hermione_ all the time?

She opened her mouth and he could see the words she was starting to form and cut her off, his voice as dangerous as the emotions roiling inside him.

"Don't you dare say you're sorry," he growled. "You're always sorry! That's another thing, sometimes you don't have to be sorry, sometimes things just happen and they're not always your fault. Do you realize that you just tried to apologize to me for me yelling at you?"

She looked shell-shocked, as if she'd been slapped across the face. Well good, apparently the stubborn witch needed it.

Looking down at her hands she mumbled "I don't know what to say."

He sat down next to her, grinning. "Really? _You,_ not knowing what to say? Are you going to faint?"

She smiled weakly. "I suppose not."

Placing his index finger under her chin he tilted her face up to look at him. "Hermione, I wasn't trying to upset you. You just don't know what it's like watching someone you care for slipping away without being able to do anything about it. I don't know how else I can make you understand that you don't always have to be the hero."

Draco thought of the prophecy and of Alvida's offer. If Hermione never knew how much actually _did_ rest on her shoulders...would she consider staying here with him? "You can't save us all, Hermione. It's not your duty to save the world and everyone in it. You are human, just like the rest of us. You hurt and you bleed and sometimes you have learn to pass the torch onto someone else." He paused to look into her eyes, to will her to feel what he did.

When he spoke again his voice was small, crumbling beneath his admission. "I was terrified out there. I didn't know how to help you, I didn't know what to do or where to go. You had always had the answers and the second you weren't there, I fell to pieces. I had no idea what I was doing. You always told me what to do, showed me the way, saved my ass when I fell. It was pretty terrifying to realize that I've never had to be the one to carry the burden, to take the lead. As it turns out, I'm horrible at it," he smiled to ease the tension in her gaze. "I guess I need to work on being more responsible and you need to work on being less."

She laughed softly, sniffing, her eyes not meeting his. Finally, he did the one thing he'd been aching to do for endless days and he bent down and kissed her. Softly, gently, he pried her lips apart and she made a small sound in her throat. She tasted salty from her tears, her lips warm and plaint beneath his. She returned the kiss and he pulled back before he got too worked up, shaking his head at how easily she could drag him under with just a single kiss.

He leaned his forehead against hers, sighing. "I thought I'd lost you," he whispered, his eyes closing against the memory. "When I pulled you out of the river...you wouldn't move, you didn't breathe. You were gone, just like that. If I hadn't remembered… I don't ever, _ever_ want to feel that way again." He clutched the back of her neck tightly as if his hold would keep her from ever leaving him again. Her arms went around him and she comforted him, crawling into his lap, every naked inch of her. He held her tight, his soul needing the comfort of her own, much stronger one. When she shivered he chuckled and pulled the blanket back over her. She looked down.

"Why am I naked?" she asked blankly.

"Alvida had to check you over. That gash was not your only injury."

She nodded and he knew without looking that she was blushing at the thought of the witch seeing her naked.

"You have a beautiful body which I sure she would have admired if she wasn't so intent on saving your life," he murmured into her hair. Her arms tightened around him.

"Thank you," she whispered. He knew she was talking about more than just his reassurance.

"You're welcome." She looked up at him, her brown eyes glittering.

"Guess I'm not the only hero around here," she said, smiling.

He snorted. "You didn't see me. It was a pretty pathetic rescue. You make it look a lot easier than it really is."

She laughed and he couldn't help it. He kissed her again, this time with more vigor, thankful she was alive and here with him. They could think about the future later, but for right now, all he wanted to think about was getting her underneath him as fast as possible.

Placing one arm under her knees and the other under her back he lifted her and placed her back onto the bed properly, laying her down where he could see every luscious inch of her. Alvida had removed the bruises and marks he hadn't been able to and she was as pristine as before other than the red scar he was certain she would carry the rest of her life. She shivered beneath his gaze and her nipples pebbled, the little mounds so delectable he could not resist. He feasted, growing hard at the sound of her sharp intake of breath.

"Draco..." she moaned, arching up to him and gasping as his right hand found its way to the apex of her legs, his left cupping her breast as his mouth moved to the next. "Draco, we shouldn't be doing this..."

"Why not?" he muttered around her nipple, which he refused to give up for nonsensical conversation.

She shivered from the vibrations his mouth made on her. "B-because...Alvida. We have to talk to her... _unh!_...Draco...really...this isn't, _ah!"_

His fingers had slid their way into her throughout her little one sided conversation and he worked her, his fingers pumping in and out of her, her clenching wetness causing him to come undone. He needed to be inside of her, he couldn't wait much longer, but he didn't want to hurt her. She was still new to this; still so incredibly, irresistibly tight. So he took his time preparing her, switching from her breast to the sweet spot on her neck which always made her groan in delight, working her clit with his thumb while she moaned and shook beneath him.

"We…we're in her house, we- _oh, gods! S_ he could walk in, Draco it's not proper, _mmph!_ W-what if she finds out?"

He laughed softly at her half-hearted reasoning as he moved to her jaw, her body undulating against him. "I'm sure she knows what we're doing."

"What?" Hermione cried shooting up. Draco chuckled and pushed her back down.

"Relax, I'll explain it later. Do you really want me to stop?" he breathed, kissing her again while his fingers hooked against her g-spot and she writhed, her fingernails digging into shoulders making him growl with want. She shook her head, delving into his mouth and reaching down to his aching member, caressing him through him damnable hose. Draco ripped off the offending material with a curse and with Hermione's help, disposed of his tunic as well.

Easing himself between her legs he lifted one of them to wrap around his hip and tucked one arm underneath her, holding her to him. She bucked up towards him as he rolled his hips against her, his length sliding against her sopping slit. She was already drenched, but it wasn't good enough, so he took back to her clit, capturing her cries with his mouth as she rose up, thrashing against his hands when his other hand dove back into her folds. She was close and in no time her body was stiffening beneath his ministrations and her head flew back, crying out as she shuddered and drenched his hands with her pleasure as he groaned and urged her on.

She came back to him gasping, her eyes bright as her claws retracted, instead coming to his sweaty neck to wind through his hair., her cheeks flushed with desire. He grinned, knowing she was as steeped as he.

Kissing her softly he attempted to slow his heart rate, her response incredibly stimulating. _I love you,_ he told her in his mind, wishing he could say the words out loud, wanting her to understand what she'd done to him.

Though he couldn't tell her, he could show her. Watching her eyes he pushed himself into her centimeter by centimeter, easing in, pulling back out, and pressing in a bit more as she trembled around him. When he was sheathed fully inside her, her fingernails dug into his back, her hips raised to his and she kissed him, long and hard. He rocked his hips slowly against her, her warm grip squeezing his sanity from him. She fit him like a glove, no woman had ever felt this perfectly in sync with him, no woman had ever made him feel the way she did by simply gazing at him with those exotic depths. She quenched his thirst for love, releasing his soul which had been trapped away for longer than he could remember. His need for her consumed him and until his dying day he would never be close enough to her. She had changed him in ways he hadn't imagined, in ways he wouldn't have wanted two weeks ago.

Draco was so lost in her he could barely breathe, every movement and sound shot like an arrow through him. Her hips thrust against him with every stroke and he allowed the feel of her to swallow him completely. He rose up to his heels, angling her hips so that he rubbed against that bundle of nerves with every move, making her whimper in surprise as he went deeper, harder, each push hurling them towards oblivion, the room filled with their gasps and moans and heat.

Hermione mewled beneath him, his name falling from her lips as she begged for release. He whipped against her, dragging her there, watching her eyes roll and her muscles tense. The sight of her reaction thrust him over and he flooded into her, pumping his hips against her g-spot until she came with him, riding a tidal wave of pleasure, crying out into the night. He groaned like a dying man, bringing her to him for a frantic kiss as his movements slowed, easing their thrumming bodies.

Her head fell against his shoulder and she lay panting, gulping in air and he remembered how close to death she'd been not two hours ago and he was guilt ridden, pushing her into such a strenuous activity so soon. He pulled himself out of her and curled her to his chest, laying them back where she continued to breathe hard. He pulled the blanket up even though their bodies created enough heat to warm modern day London.

"I'm sorry," he muttered against her sweaty temple. "I shouldn't have-"

"It's alright," she cooed, reaching for his hand which he gladly gave, weaving his fingers between hers. "It was exactly what I needed. I just need to rest for a moment."

Draco grinned as her eyes closed and her breathing eventually slowed. He knew she had fallen asleep and he chuckled softly. Well, they'd done a good job of figuring things out now, hadn't they?

Draco enjoyed the feel of her body against his before reluctantly easing his fingers from her limp grasp. He rose slowly, trying not to disturb her, and tugged on his disgusting garments, wishing he could have a shower and be in his old clothes again. Glancing over at a soundly sleeping Hermione, he ducked out of the room smoothing down his hair and found Alvida hovering over the cauldron. She smiled up at him. Was this woman _always_ smiling?

"How is she?"

"Better."

The witch's grin increased as she looked back to the cauldron. She definitely knew.

Draco scratched the back of his neck where he felt a blush creeping up and cleared his throat. "Look, we didn't mean to disrespect you or anything-"

"How can love be disrespectful? You have been through hard times, it is natural to find comfort in those you love." She rose and placed her soft hand against his cheek. "You must learn to seek solace when it is offered for it will help you through your darkest hours. Now come, you must eat."

She led him through the house to a kitchen where she began charming things to make a meal. Potatoes threw themselves into a pot over the fireplace which roared to life and began to boil water immediately. Carrots started chopping themselves on a rough wooden board, onions peeled in mid-air and joined the potatoes while a huge chunk of meat splashed into the water sending it everywhere.

"Now, come on everyone! Stop making such a mess!" Alvida scolded the food. Draco snorted.

Alvida turned to him with an eyebrow raised. He wiped the smirk off his face under her penetrating glare. But that endless smile returned to her ruby lips and he relaxed. Gods, she could give a man a heart attack with that look.

"I don't have much company so I keep up conversation with my house."

Draco just nodded, not wanting to offend their savior.

She busied herself at the fireplace, pulling herbs from jars on the mantle and throwing them into the pot which bubbled pleasantly sending off an inviting aroma.

"Now, dispel those inquiries you still have about me. I can hear you thinking."

"I thought you said you couldn't read minds?"

"One doesn't have to read minds to hear the wheels turning in that busy mind of yours. Now, go on."

Draco chewed over the myriad questions he still had. "If you knew we were coming, why didn't you just meet us at Sari and Milo's instead of making us trek across the country trying to find you?"

Alvida straightened, wiping her hands on her dress unnecessarily.

"That question, I'm afraid I cannot answer. It is something you yourself must figure out on your own."

Draco's mouth nearly fell to the floor. "You're kidding me right now? Is this some sort of 'it was your destiny' bullshit? Hermione could have DIED! This isn't a game! We were two teenagers against an army of Trackers!"

"If I had for one instant thought you two could not have handled it I would have intercepted," she said, her voice calm despite his angry outburst. "There are other reasons, Draco. Reasons I cannot tell you now. You will understand soon enough."

Draco fumed. She knew. This whole time she had known they were out there fighting for their lives and she had done nothing. How many times had they been in trouble? They could have died at any moment, never gotten here on time. _But you did,_ a small voice in the back of his mind said.

 _Shut up,_ he told the voice crankily.

"Ah, Hermione! So nice of you to join us! How are you feeling, my dear?" Draco swiveled towards the door. Apparently his shout had woken her.

"Much better, thank you," Hermione said nervously, a blush creeping prettily to her cheeks. She was wrapped in a blanket, her dress having disappeared.

"You would like some clothing, I'm assuming?" Alvida said cheerily. At Hermione's nod she pointed through a door to her right.

"There is a wash basin through here which I'm sure you'll wish to use. Your belongings are hanging up, I've cleaned them for you. And you as well, Draco. You may bathe when she has finished. Your clothes are in there as well."

"My-but I'm wearing my clothes..."

"I believe those dashing hose belong to Milo."

"Wait," Hermione said, her brow wrinkling. "Are you saying our robes and _real_ clothes are in there?"

Alvida nodded as if it was the simplest explanation in the world. "Really, you shouldn't be leaving items like that around where anyone could stumble upon them. It might cause a bit of a stir. Your wands are in there as well. The bag you left in the forest was a little harder to track but I managed well enough."

 _"Did you follow us?"_ Draco demanded, rising in his fury.

"Good Heavens, no! No, I went out yesterday and brought them back here, Milo having sent word you had left them behind."

"I'm confused," Hermione said her hand pressed to her forehead as if a headache were brewing there. "How did you speak to Milo?"

"We have other ways of communication," Alvida said simply and left it at that. Draco glared at the mysterious witch as she showed Hermione to the wash room. When she came back she filled a plate for Draco and laid it in front of him telling him he wasn't to say another word until it was finished.

He realized he was still standing, his jaw and fists clenched in anger. This woman had saved their lives, but truth be told, they wouldn't have even _needed_ saving if she'd found them when they'd first arrived.

His grumbling stomach eventually won out and he sat, turning to his meal silently. The food was delicious and he devoured three plates of it. When he finished he leaned back against his chair, stuffed, staring at Alvida who was sitting quietly across from him at the table with an eerily calm expression that reminded him all too much of Dumbledore.

Hermione was still the washroom so he waited patiently until she had finished. She came out, smiling in her robes and pale yellow tank top and jeans, her wand in hand. Her golden brown hair glowed, free of the dirt and grime. It flowed freely down her back in soft, wet waves and Draco longed to wrap his fingers in it, to bury his face in the strands and drown in the scent that was Hermione. Instead he switched places with her and went into the washroom to scrub.

...

A/N: _Arsa Leigheas_ is Gaelic for "Ancient Healing."

XOXO

RynStar15


	16. Chapter 16

Hermione chewed a piece of beef slowly. She was still so tired, as if she hadn't gotten _enough_ sleep yesterday, and guilt assailed her once more. She couldn't believe her injury had gotten so bad. She also couldn't believe that Draco had gotten them here alone, that he had saved her. Barely more than a week before and he certainly would have left her for dead. She smiled, thinking about how much he had changed since then, the look in his eye now when he gazed at her. He loved her as she did him. It was an incredible transformation.

Now, even more unbelievably, she sat across from Alvida Eynon, a strikingly beautiful woman who smiled constantly. She seemed so happy they were there. Alvida had just explained to her what she had supposedly already explained to Draco, about herself, how she knew who they were and about the Time Turner. Hermione was admittedly nervous about jumping with a Time Turner that had never been tested before. What if something went wrong again? What if they couldn't get back home? What if they were stuck in some parallel dimension between time? Questions bounced around in her head as she watched Alvida watching her.

"You have more you would like to ask me. Please, feel free. I will tell you anything I can. I understand how difficult all of this must be to comprehend, I myself still have some difficulty believing you are both here finally, that it wasn't just a dream."

Hermione looked at her, considering her words carefully. "I have read about you many times. When I was first given a Time Turner I learned as much as I could about them, how they worked, how they were made, what could happen if things went wrong. You are the first known inventor. I've always been envious of you; so famous for using your magic in ways people of your day didn't even understand to create something so immense." Hermione kneaded the cloth napkin before her, unable to meet her gaze. "But your story also saddened me. I have one question before the rest. Have you sent your plans to your friend in France already?"

Alvida smiled that knowing smile that told her she knew something Hermione didn't. "I know no one in France."

Hermione was perplexed. All the texts had said...

"But, your package was recorded having gone to France. That's where the Time Turner first came out, nearly two decades later... You _didn't_ send it to France?"

"Those were not my words, Hermione. I said I know no one in France."

Hermione's head hurt. She was tired of all this thinking, all this uncertainty. If she sent the package to France, but she knew no one...Who _did_ she send it to?

Alvida leaned forward. "Think, Hermione. You are a smart witch. Did anyone ever find my body?"

Her body...? The fire! Hermione's head whipped up. "You know?"

"Yes. They have been on my trail for a long time now. This last battle just outside my house has clarified their doubts about where I am. I cannot hide any longer. I do not know what my future holds, but I know that I must leave here, and for that I sent my plans ahead, to France. It will be received by Madame Constancia Mauvoisin."

"Madame Mauvoisin? She's the next known owner of the Time Turner! You're..." Hermione started. "You're her... _you're_ Madame Mauvoisin."

Alvida nodded, smiling again. "I will leave in the morning. I shall go to France and continue to work on my precious gift."

Hermione knew where Alvida's new life was headed. She would marry Comte le Brun and together they would put forth the first known Time Turner which had supposedly stemmed from the one her friend Alvida Eynon had sent her eighteen years earlier.

Alvida Eynon hadn't died, she had simply disappeared... Had this happened because she and Draco had come here? Or regardless of?

Draco stepped out of the washroom just then, his blonde hair damp and plastered to his gorgeous head, his black robes open to reveal his black button up and black slacks, much more sophisticated than the simple outfit she'd chosen the morning of the battle. He grinned at her, apparently happy to be out of the hose, and her breath caught. How could a man as handsome as he look at someone like her with such longing?

"Much better," Alvida said, nodding to him. "Now come, sit. We have much to discuss before you two get some rest."

They talked until the night turned to day, grey clouds covering the sky, a light drizzle pitter-pattering on the roof. Plans were made, their tasks set. It seemed Alvida had been ready for this day a long time, not one detail left to chance. Hermione was nervous, but confident in their strategy.

Hermione's head felt like a wrung sponge when she finally stumbled into bed after drinking an awful tasting potion and Draco slid in next to her holding her close, spooning her body to his. His lips traveled the shell of her ear making her shiver.

"This is it," Hermione whispered.

"Yes," he breathed. She felt he was keeping something from her, but she refused to pry. This time tomorrow they would be back where they were supposed to be. They would go back to hating each other, at least in the eyes of the outside world. She knew, deep down, that she would never feel the peace she did now again. These last hours she would cherish and take with her. It was all they had, all they could ever have.

They'd said their good-byes to Alvida who would be gone before they woke. She felt they were more protected that way. This was the last leg of their journey. Their last farewell. Although Hermione's body begged for sleep, she turned to Draco, tracing his features with her fingertips, telling him through touch her love for him. His hand grabbed hers and he placed tender kisses on her palm. In her wildest dreams she could never have imagined Draco Malfoy, the tormentor of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, would be a gentle lover. She knew it was a part of him he reserved only for her.

The room was slowly filled with her sighs, his whispers of words that would never again be repeated. Even as her body soared her heart broke for the time they would never have. She fought back the tears; she didn't want Draco to know the anguish she was in. She wanted to beg him to stay with her, to come to their side. But she had told him she had expected no promises, knew there would never be a future. So she would be strong; for Harry, for Ron, for the Order, for the wizarding world, for all her family and friends who were counting on her. She would break her heart, shatter her soul for them. She would lose the only love she had ever had, _would_ ever have, to do what was right, what she knew she had to do. She would take these hours that were given to her and make them last a lifetime of emptiness.

Draco slowly drugged her with kisses, running his tongue lazily against her own, committing each feeling to memory. He kissed every inch of her face while his hands calmly undressed her. Their movements were not hurried. They drew out the time they had left like two people on either end of a tongue of taffy, pulling it beyond its boundaries so that each and every last bit could be used to its fullest extent.

Her hands crept along the buttons of his shirt, her lips coming out to kiss every centimeter of exposed flesh, his muscular chest sucking in when she went lower to his abs that were chiseled like rock, hidden beneath a layer of pale silk and golden hair. She watched his face as she pushed his shirt from his shoulders, her hands running down his arms as she shoved the material away. She tucked away the feel of his muscles, his strong arms that could hold her so gently or fight off men in battle, into the corner recesses of her mind. When the shirt was fully off he clasped her hands in his own, bringing them to his chest and holding them there. Her palm flattened against his thudding heart.

"It beats for you."

A tear slid down her cheek, unchecked as his words shocked her. She wanted to cry out in rage, it wasn't fair! Why did they have to suffer so? His knuckle came out to swipe at the tears making their way to her chin.

"No tears, not tonight," he whispered gently, his own face a mask of anguish.

She nodded. She found it somewhat ironic that it wasn't night at all, but day. Their room was dark so she could pretend that it was night; pretend that this was something they would repeat over and over. She knew she would in her dreams every night.

They kissed, two damned lovers kneeling in the middle of the bed, from different backgrounds, from different sides of a war, in a different time. Her arms held him close as he removed his remaining garments and lowered her slowly to the straw mattress. They crawled over each other, memorizing, admiring, loving. Sleek muscles pressed into hard ones, rough, calloused hands swept over incredibly soft skin. Sweat clung, hands held, breaths stammered.

When he slid into her they stayed, melded into each other, for hours. When he moved, each stroke went on for days. They climbed, slowly, softly to the unobtainable heights that were suddenly reachable together. He pressed her body to his own while they made gentle, tender love. Time passed but the day did not wear on, and Hermione figured she had Alvida to thank for that.

When they finally climaxed they came together, clinging, holding.

They fell asleep the same way, their slumber deep and penetrating. With the memory of these last few hours, they would wake in the evening and do what they had to do.

...

When he woke, Draco felt a weight on his heart. He knew after this last task ahead he and Hermione would part forever. He had not told her that they could stay, that he wanted to stay. He knew that she, like he, had not even considered the possibility. Her responsibility to her friends was too great; she wouldn't let them down. He didn't want to give her the choice, for her to feel the anguish he felt at the decision. He knew she thought she loved him, but she would get over him eventually. After a few weeks her broken heart would mend and she would forget about him. She would hate him for what he had to do and she would find another. She would be happy. It was what she deserved.

Twilight was on its way. They had slept for a good while, resting up for what was coming. He slid from the bed, trying not to disturb the still sleeping witch that his dead arm was stuck under. He dressed quickly and went in search for food. He knew Alvida would be gone, knew she had lengthened their time together and then left them to doze. He was grateful for those stolen hours.

On the kitchen table lay the old fashioned Time Turner and a note:

 _Draco and Hermione,_

 _Love from the deepest parts of my heart go out to you both. I have worked diligently towards this night my entire life. I wish I could assure you that everything will work out fortunately for you both, but I cannot, for I have not the heart to do so. Your destinies lie ahead of you, unchartered. Make the best of them. There will be strife and sorrow, but together, you can accomplish what alone you cannot._

 _I know that this decision was not an easy one for either of you, for your love is pure and beautiful and it grieves my heart to know how you will be tested in these days to come._

 _And lastly, I thank you for what you will do tonight. I am sorry that I had to ask so much of you but I have faith that your assistance may allow my own destiny to go forth to do what I am put on this earth to do._

 _Blessings to you both,_

Alvida

Draco crumpled the letter and threw it in the fire, not wanting Hermione to see the part about their choice. His own heart would grieve for the both of them.

Bread and cheese were laid out with a jug of mead for them. He ate his portion greedily and grabbed one of the potion vials laid out for Hermione and carried it back to the bedroom where he intended to rouse her gently with sweet kisses, but the bed was empty and neatly made.

She was awake and dressed, standing at the window, staring out at the weak sun which had filtered through the grey clouds while they were sleeping. It was a dark, harvest orange, sinking slowly into the horizon.

"Why were you in the dungeons that day?" she asked, her voice calm as if she'd simply asked for the date.

Draco was taken aback. Where had this come from? She turned to him, her hand still resting on the sill, her hair set ablaze by the sun behind her, peaking between the trees. Draco set the food and potion on the bedside table slowly, unsure of how to answer.

"You asked me what I was doing down in the dungeons, but I could ask the same of you," she continued, her voice level but her eyes betraying the emotion she held back. "The fight was upstairs, as you said. You accused me of hiding. Is that what you were doing? Hiding?"

What was going on? Why, after everything they'd shared, did she suddenly want to know what had almost happened on that fateful day? She looked at him calmly, waiting for his confession. Draco set his jaw.

"No, I know you weren't. Just as you knew I wasn't." She started towards him slowly. He stood frozen, unable to move from the weight of her words.

"So why were you down there? Were you protecting Nagini?"

Draco was stunned. Nagini? She should have been in the Master's quarters...why would she have been in the dungeons? That didn't make sense. Unless Hermione knew something he didn't... And her words she'd cried out in the woods came to his mind... _Nagini, Wormtail, my fault..._

"What are you implying?" he asked darkly, looking deep into her eyes, but her ocean of secrets remain locked amongst their depths, her words only skimming the surface.

"Only that Wormtail is not man enough to protect such a precious item. It does not make sense to leave her so open."

Why would Nagini need protection? And why would she care so much about the Dark Lord's pet snake?

"I don't know what you are getting on about so you had better spit it out," he growled.

Her brow raised as if she didn't believe his ignorance. "You don't know?"

Was she taunting him? Why was she doing this? Why was she bringing this up now? They needed to prepare, to be cherishing these last moments, not drudging up a past which could only rip them apart.

He reached for her but she moved back, away from his touch. "Look, let's just leave it be, there's no sense in digging this up. Take your potion, we need to get ready," he said, turning to grab the vial but she stilled him with a strong hand on his elbow.

"No, not until you answer me."

He sighed irritatedly. "What does it matter? It was my fucking house, wasn't it? I could be wherever I damn well pleased!"

"But why would you choose that place, at that exact time? Right when I went down?" She was looking at him accusingly, her eyes trying to drill into his own as if she could pry out his secrets from that simple act.

"For that matter, why were you there?" he asked, attempting to change the subject.

"I had work to do," she stated simply.

"Not good enough. If you're going to interrogate me about what I was doing in my own house then you should have the decency to tell me what it is you were doing."

"I can't, Draco. You wouldn't understand anyway. Just tell me the truth, _were you sent down there to kill me?"_

The blood drained from his face at her damning words. _Shit._ How the hell did she know, how _could_ she know? He watched her as her eyes bore into him, seeking the answers he didn't want to give. Eventually she nodded.

"You were. I can tell."

He said nothing. She had made her own assumption, he hadn't told her anything. Let her think what she would, she would come to her own conclusions anyway. The damn witch was too smart for her own good. The words stuck in his throat because he couldn't deny her accusation, but neither could he acknowledge the painful truth.

She turned away from him, walking back to the window.

"It's alright, Draco. I understand. You were just doing what you had to do. I'm a Muggle-born, Harry Potter's friend. It makes sense he would want to use me as a way to get to Harry. Is it still your mission? When we go back, will you still be forced to carry out his orders?"

He flinched at the pain that stuck through him at her words because they were so horribly accurate. When he returned he would be expected to resume his task. And he would be killed for his inability to follow it through.

He couldn't tell her, couldn't put that pain on her shoulders, knowing that he would be forced to give his life to spare hers. None of this was her fault; she hadn't asked to be born to the wrong parents, hadn't known when she'd befriended Potter that she would be thrust into this war. She hadn't intended to make the person who was supposed to be her murderer fall so desperately in love with her.

Hermione turned back to him, so achingly beautiful that his heart broke even more. The understanding and acceptance in her eyes was almost more than he could bear. She looked down to his fists which were clenched against the horrible reality of his life and covered the few steps that were between them. She wrapped her arms around him, holding him, her ear pressed against his heart.

He shuddered at her touch. Here he was, all but wordlessly admitting that he had meant to kill her back at the Manor and she was comforting him. Completely enraptured by the grace of her love, Draco clung the person whose life he would willingly sacrifice his own for.

Everything was so fucked up.

He hung on for a while longer before pressing her back and making her drink the potion. She made a face.

"Urgh it's revolting! It tastes almost as bad as Polyjuice Potion!"

This struck him as odd and he shook his head, blinking. "Wait, when did _you_ ever drink Polyjuice Potion?"

She paled. "Er, well...erm, we, I-"

 _"We?_ Meaning you and Potty and the Weasle?"

She blushed furiously and stammered on. "Well, we- I mean yes, we _did_ but it's not, I mean-"

He crossed his arms taking great pleasure in her obvious discomfort, his lips tilting up as he sensed a thrilling tale beneath her embarrassment.

"Who did you turn into?"

"You mean _what,"_ she grumbled then snapped her head up, eyes wide. "I mean-"

He burst out laughing while she fumed. _"What?_ You do know that potion is only supposed to be for human transformations, right?"

"Thank you _so_ very much for your keen observation! Of course I knew that! It was an accident! If Millicent hadn't-"

 _"Millicent?_ As in Millicent Bulstrode?"

Hermione clapped her hands over her red face. She moaned in agony while Draco continued to roar in mirth.

"What in Merlin's name would make you want to turn into _her?"_

"I didn't _want_ to but I wasn't left with many options!" she said looking up angrily.

Draco attempted to stem the flood of laughter. "Okay, that's it, you have to let me in! What is the world was Miss Hermione Granger doing trying to turn herself into that cow?"

"I can't-"

He smirked and wrapped his arms seductively around her. He nuzzled her hair and nibbled her ear, loving when she instantly shivered. "C'mon, Hermione. Let poor Draco know. Just one tiny little insight into your life."

He could feel her melting in his grasp. "This is cheating."

He chuckled, rubbing against her and murmuring against her neck. "I'm a Slytherin, after all."

She hesitated and he knew she was hooked. "You're going to be angry..."

"I won't, I promise." Why in the world would he be angry? Had they wanted to have some kinky threesome? He shuddered at the thought of Millicent being part of anyone's fantasy. Well, he knew _that_ hadn't happened. What other possible reason could there be for taking an illegal potion?

"Well, you see, it was in our second year..."

Draco leaned back to look at her in shock. "You brewed that in our _second year?_ Merlin's balls, Hermione! That's N.E.W.T level!"

She squirmed self-consciously. "Well, Harry and Ron helped..."

"Yes, I'm sure they displayed their talents of fetching things for you grandly."

"They did more than that!" she protested.

"Oh, yeah?" he pried, crossing his arms. "Like what?"

"Erm...well, like...stirring...and...it was a long time ago!"

He barked in amusement. "Admit it, you brewed it on your own while those goons watched."

"They are _not_ goons!"

"Alright, alright. Go on, enlighten me with the reason three twelve-year-olds would be interested in turning into Millicent Bulstrode of all people."

She huffed. "Well, we had learned about the Chamber of Secrets, obviously, and erm, well, we thought _you_ had something to do with it actually..."

"Me?" he said incredulously. "Why would you think _I_ had anything to do with it? I was just a kid, for Merlin's sake!"

She looked uncomfortable and wouldn't meet his gaze. "Well, er, because of what you said when Mrs. Norris was found."

He remembered with horrible clarity how he had gleefully shouted out _"You'll be next Mudbloods!"_ while secretly hoping that bushy haired, buck toothed Know-It-All would be the first to go.

"Yeah, well I can see how me being a royal git would make you think that. I _wanted_ to have something to do with it. I remembered writing father nearly every day, begging for him to tell me about it, to tell me how to get into it. But, what does this all have to do with Millicent?"

"Well, see, we figured if we could transfigure ourselves into Slytherins we could sneak into your common room and interrogate you."

 _"What?"_ he roared.

"You promised you wouldn't get mad," she reminded him, a smirk coming to the corners of her lips, and he growled.

"You do know how many rules you were breaking?" he snapped instead of drilling her.

"Yes, I was quite aware of it at the time."

Draco shook his head in amazement. "Turning yourselves into fellow students to interrogate _me,_ of all people. How very Slytherin of you, Hermione."

She glared at him. "It seemed like a good idea at the time."

"A smart plan, indeed. Please, continue with your thrilling tale."

She looked hesitant to continue. "Well, I had gotten what I thought was a strand of Millicent's hair from when she had put me in a head-lock at the Dueling practice-"

Draco chuckled when he remembered that particular scene. It had been a favorite of his to think about when Hermione had one-upped him in everything during the following years. He sobered when he was scorched by her glare and waved his hand to allow her to continue, not trusting his voice.

"Anyway, the hair ended up being a cat's hair. That's why I was in the Hospital Wing for a few weeks that term-"

Draco couldn't help it. He whooped. He laughed until his sides hurt and he bent over, clutching them until he saw Hermione's trainer tapping on the ground, fuzzy from the tears which had gathered in his eyes at the thought of Hermione as a cat.

"Please tell me you got pictures!" he choked out, swiping at his eyes. He calmed himself as best he could at the look on her face but the grin refused to fade.

"Please, proceed," he chortled.

She continued to glare at him a good long while before continuing. "Well, I obviously couldn't go anywhere looking like that but the potion worked for Harry and Ron who turned into Goyle and Crabbe, respectfully, found their way down to the common room, with your help by the way, and interrogated you until they began to turn back."

Draco felt the blood leave his face, his amusement suddenly sliding into terror. Potter and Weasley had interrogated him as Crabbe and Goyle? For fuck's sake, he could have told them anything!

"Hermione!" he screamed.

It was her turn to laugh at the horrified look on his face. He was fuming. How had he not known? The two idiots could have done _anything_ in the Slytherin common room! He tried to think of any conversation with his friends which had seemed out of place, but they'd spent most of the year discussing the Chamber and those morons were always saying something thick.

"What did I tell them?" he asked hysterically.

Hermione continued to laugh; she was now the one clutching her sides. He watched her with anger and amusement until he'd had enough.

"Alright, that's it, Granger," he snapped, suddenly rock hard. He picked her up as she squealed and threw her violently on the bed, crushing her beneath him. He had one brief view of her terrified eyes before he was smashing his lips upon hers, kissing her hard.

He didn't know what had gotten into him, one second he was pissed at the thought of divulging his secrets to Potter and Weasley and the next he was so turned on by the beauty of Hermione's face flushed with laughter that he was tossing her around like a bag of potatoes, trying to get her under him as fast as possible. He needed her, now.

Draco ripped off her jeans, taking her underwear and trainers with them, grabbing her hips and yanking her to the edge of the bed while she gasped. He knelt on the floor spreading her legs wide, hooking her heels up by her supple backside. She began to protest but nothing would stop him now. She was already soaking wet when his tongue descended onto her clit. She bucked off the bed with a cry as he worked her, swirling his tongue around her swollen nub, flicking it back and forth before massaging it again. She moaned and writhed, her hands coming to tangle in his hair, pressing him against her core. He grinned at her reaction as his erection raged in his slacks.

He kept his left hand on her hip to keep her steady while his right hand took over for his tongue so he could explore the rest of her, sucking on her plump lips, laving her center over and over while she groaned above him. When he plunged his tongue into her hot core he felt her shudder as she cried out, pressing him harder to her, holding him there. But she needn't have worried, he had no intention of going anywhere.

 _"Gods,_ Draco!"

He couldn't help but smile at the fact that his prude Gryffindor was screaming in ecstasy at this incredibly carnal act. He wanted to see how much further he could take her, so his fingers and his tongue switched positions and he pumped three digits roughly into her making her groan loudly. She tasted so good and her reactions were so perfect that his head spun. She writhed against him, her breath coming in pants, his name falling off her lips and soon screams were tearing out of her throat while her walls milked his fingers as he massaged that bundle of nerves. He nearly died as he lapped up her juices which gushed over his hands and face. He was rock hard and he needed to get inside her, now.

"Draco, Draco, hurry...please..."

He couldn't move fast enough. When he fumbled with his slacks Hermione Banished the pants to the floor with a sweep of her hand. He grinned and held her hips tight as he plunged into her to the hilt, making her gasp. In the back of his mind he hoped he hadn't hurt her but he couldn't stop, his need to feel her around him overtaking his senses. He pounded into her tightness over and over, snapping his hips so roughly against her he wouldn't be surprised if she bruised. Her hips bucked in time with his and her face scrunched in pleasure, her fingers tangling in the blankets.

"Harder, Draco, harder, oh, _gods!"_

He almost came right then. He complied, pounding into her while she screamed, her core tightening around him as another orgasm ripped through her body. Draco groaned at the feel of her walls pulsating around him so tightly that he was thrust roughly over the edge. His yells joined her as his vision went white, his body straining as he came inside her so hard he nearly passed out. He collapsed on top of her, gasping.

"Gods, Hermione..."

She groaned her consent beneath him. He chuckled and she joined him.

"That was amazing," she said breathlessly and he grinned with pride.

"I will have to agree with you there, Miss Granger. All that time we wasted fighting in school when we could have been doing this..."

Hermione giggled against his shoulder and he kissed her temple which was slick with sweat. Gods, he'd been such a fool...

Eventually he got up enough energy to tug them both onto the bed properly, curling into each other, silent as the room grew dark, trying to delay what they knew they must do.

"We have to go," Hermione finally whispered as the last dregs of daylight slipped from the sky.

He nodded, pulling her tight for one more minute. Maybe if they didn't say it loud, it wouldn't happen.

But life was never that kind. With a sigh of regret, Draco dragged himself up and pulled on his clothes while Hermione followed suit. He took her hand and led her to the table where he forced her to scarf down the meager meal. She grimaced at the mead which made him smile. She'd probably never had Firewhiskey before. He would love to see her reaction to that.

Draco lit the candles in the house and Hermione checked their satchel to be sure everything was in place. They knew what they had to do.

They sat in silence in the living room, watching the night through the windows, Hermione clutching a potion bottle to her chest. They heard a rumble in the distance and they knew the time had finally come.

They were here.

...

XOXO  
RynStar15


	17. Chapter 17

Hermione stood stock-still as the sounds moved closer, her heart thundering in her chest. She turned to Draco and cast a Disillusionment Charm on him, watching as he faded into the glass panes they had diligently sat at, waiting for the Trackers.

"Go," she whispered. She saw a ripple in front of her as Draco turned to her, grabbing her arm.

"I don't like this," he said lowly.

"It's the way it has to be. Besides, it's not as if I've never done this before," she smiled reassuringly.

"This isn't nearly the same," he argued.

"I'll be fine; I'll meet you at the tallest tree out back, twenty minutes tops. Now hurry, I need your eyes on the back!" she urged, for every second they delayed might be one too long. She could feel his lips descend upon her own for a swift kiss and she sensed more than saw him leaving the room, knowing he was going out to the edge of the forest as they had planned.

She could almost feel the Trackers closing in on her and she pulled the cork from the potion bottle in her hand and drank it quickly, her gag reflux on high alert. The potion, however, was not as bad as it originally had been. Far from appetizing, it tasted like burnt, over-cooked potatoes with a hint of a minty aftertaste. She shivered and closed her eyes as her body began to change. She smacked her palm to her head as she remembered that she had forgotten to change her clothing before drinking it.

While her skin boiled and rippled beneath her very own eyes she ripped off her robes and Muggle clothes as they began to get tighter. The ground moved further away as she pulled on an emerald green dress draped over a chair for her. She tied on the gold rope belt around her waist, the strings hanging down to the generous folds of green. Hermione gasped and fell to her knees as the ending stages of the transformation were completed and she feared she might be sick. When the last of the stretching, pulling, twisting sensations left her she stood shakily, adjusting to her new, much taller body. Walking a little oddly, she made her way to the window and looked into the reflection of herself.

Alvida Eynon stared back at her. It had worked perfectly, as Hermione had known it would. And none too soon as the feeling of being surrounded increased. She moved to the fireplace, Levitating a cauldron into it and lighting a fire beneath it. She made it boil so the steam would make it seem as if she was in fact hard at work with a potion. She quickly hid all of her belongings in the leather satchel and threw it into the shadowy space of the hall.

She reached for the stone that was a twin of the one Draco had neglected to tell her about (which she was still slightly miffed about) sitting on its pillowed throne on top of the mantle. Squeezing it tight in her palm she extracted the magic in it which Alvida sent upon her call. She could feel the magical connection surging through her body like an electrical shock. Hermione raised her hand palm down and felt herself lowering the guards surrounding the cottage. She felt vulnerable, but she knew they had planned this out just right. It would work. Alvida would not let them down.

There were shouts in the distance. She went back to the cauldron and made it shoot sparks and colorful steam while she pretended not to hear the men sneaking into the bushes outside the window.

"Witch! Ye will burn in hell!"

She turned as if shocked, running to the window. Below her a bush burned merrily, mocking her in her playact. This was real, the danger was real and yet she felt like she was in a staged production, one of the many her parents had taken her to over the years.

She felt the heat as she turned her face into a mask of horror. She ran to the door and tugged on it. It was locked from the outside with a simple spell. Did they honestly think a great witch such as Alvida would not be able to simply _Alohamora_ her way out? But she didn't do the spell, instead running through the house trying the various windows and doors while the men outside whooped and hollered at her pathetic attempts to escape.

When she reached the kitchen window the heat was immense. She once again tried to simply pull open the window which, of course, remained shut.

"C'mon witch! Why don' ye try somma yer magic, eh? We know ye can do it! C'mon! Spell yer way out!"

Hermione did her best to look the distressed damsel. Indeed, the room flooded with heat and she was starting to get somewhat nervous. _You planned this all out, relax. You'll be fine. Just stick to the script,_ she calmed herself.

"Please sir!" Alvida's smooth tones floated from her lips. "I know no magic! Please, do not do this!" she screeched as flames licked the outer wall, their presence creating a furnace-like atmosphere while the men cackled in delight outside. She let out a very real shriek when the fire crept through the dry wooden walls, igniting the kitchen. She had to leave this room. It was time for phase two.

Hermione lifted the skirts of her dress and ran through the house, jumping when loud _cracks_ of wood splintered around her, making her dodge the sagging beams. She hoped Draco was alright; he was Disillusioned so if he was hurt she might not be able to find him and it worried her.

When she reached the door to the living room she found her path barred. The fire had spread more rapidly than she had anticipated and a wall of flame greeted her, licking at the ceiling. She squeezed the warm stone in her hand, taking the power that Alvida sent through her duplicate one to carve a path in the fire so she could pass. The heat was immense, pressing in on all sides as she pushed through it and into the next room which was completely engulfed in flames. Smoke filled her lungs and she coughed, hitting the ground to get away from the dangerous carbon monoxide. She crawled, pouring water from her hands to create a path.

A shelving unit next to her snapped and fell, crashing onto her legs and fire consumed her dress. Screaming, she poured water on it from her hands until the flames were extinguished, but the agonizing pain made her stomach roll. Keening yells were ripped from her as she pushed the heavy shelf and ceramic shards from her left calf to assess the damage. Her skin was charred, the acrid smell mixing with the smoke from which she could not escape and nauseating her.

She had to move, the fire was closing in on her. She used her arms to pull herself into the hallway, her left leg useless as the searing pain radiated from the burnt skin throughout it.

The hallway was still flame-free, the fire having not reached it yet, but the smoke lingered at the top, waiting to choke her. Hermione cast a Bubble-Head Charm on herself, berating herself for not thinking of it sooner. She grabbed the leather satchel waiting for her there and used the wall to pull herself up. Hermione limped towards the back of the house, sweat pouring down her face, the pain in her leg tearing through her.

When she reached the room at the end leading to the back door she gasped in horror. The fire had consumed her exit. She looked around nervously for another. There was none, every single wall was ensconced in the blaze. There was no way out. She had a slight moment of panic before she forced herself to calm down. _Think, you are a witch for crying out loud! You can get out of this without being seen!_

She couldn't simply Apparate out; the Trackers would sense it and they had to think that Alvida had gone down with the house.

The heat was too intense, it was making it hard for her to concentrate. She limped back into the hallway which was slowly being swallowed at the other end. This was the middle of the house, the last bit to be taken. She couldn't go out either end, couldn't go up without being seen and she couldn't Apparate without them knowing. Her only option was down.

 _Defodio!_ she thought and a hole began to dig itself into the floor. When it was deep enough she lowered herself into it, jarring her leg and causing her to gasp in pain. The world spun for a minute and when it slowed she was able to revel in the coolness of the earth surrounding her. Slinging the satchel across her body, she dug a tunnel towards the woods big enough for her to crawl in. She didn't have enough hands to cast light as she dug with one and repaired the floor with her other, filling in the earth behind her so she left no trace of what she had done, so she moved forward in the darkness, willing herself to stay calm.

The process was long and grueling; her leg hindering her and the vast amount of magic she was using began wearing on her still much weakened body. The hole was pitch black and silent but for the sounds of the earth being displaced and refilled around her. She had no way of knowing where she was, what was happening above her, or how long she was taking. She had to stop several times to catch her breath since she was still recuperating and her leg was throbbing something awful. Her hands clasped and unclasped themselves against the agonizing pain; she'd never known how much burns hurt having received only minimal ones as a child.

At one point in her journey she had to stop for probably ten minutes as her body changed back to normal and she thought she was going to be sick from the sensation of her guts being torn out and replaced. The scar on her side tinged with a dull, achy throb adding to her discomfort. Alvida had warned that it might never fade and she hoped she was only referring to the ugly gash and not the pain.

Hermione figured she had to be far enough in the forest by now to not be seen emerging so she began the process of her ascent. She was glad the Bubble-Head Charm was still on because dirt cascaded upon her as she dug for the surface. This part was harder, as she was required to dig a few feet, use her arms and right leg to climb up the walls of the tunnel until her head hit the top and fill in the bottom below her until she could stand and repeat the process. She did this three times before she broke into the night, woodsy sounds filling her ears.

It was quiet but she waited to make sure the coast was clear before climbing her way out and hefting herself onto the forest floor. She rolled onto her back breathing hard and stayed there for a few moments catching her breath. Knowing Draco was waiting for her she refilled the hole and covered it with bits of leaves and sticks to make it look like the ground around it.

The night was eerily still, the only sounds that met her were crickets and bullfrogs and the sound of a merrily crackling fire in the distance that she knew to be Alvida's home. The Trackers had obviously gotten bored of their little bonfire and left.

Now she had to find Draco and since he was Disillusioned she had no way of knowing where he was. She hoped he had stuck to the plan and stayed by tree they'd chosen to meet at.

She wanted desperately to get out of here and go back home where someone would know how to fix the burn on her leg. Although she knew it meant that this would be the last time she would ever be around Draco again, she also knew she needed to get back to Grimmauld Place and help the others. She once again wondered if everyone was alright, if the war was over, who was ruling, what had happened. The last two weeks had been both thrilling and agonizing and she was ready to see her family once more.

Hermione hitched up the overly long dress which was now hanging on her much more petite frame and set off for their meeting place at the edge of the woods, hoping Draco would be there waiting for her, praying that his Disillusionment Charm had kept him safe from prying eyes.

"Draco!" she called out quietly, not wanting to bring unwanted attention to herself in case the Trackers were still about. How would she find him if he didn't see her? Glancing at the moon above her she realized it had taken her much longer than she'd thought to dig her way out. They were supposed to have met over an hour ago when she was supposed to sneak out but her plan had backfired and now she had no way of knowing if Draco would still be there or not. Hurrying as fast as she could, Hermione dragged her injured leg back to the burning house, wincing with every step. She almost collapsed with relief when she saw Draco sitting on the ground watching the burning cottage diligently.

"Dra-" was all she got out before she hit the forest floor, stiff as a board.

...

Draco stared at the flames licking at the last vestiges of the house. After the men had left Draco had made himself visible and hid behind some trees for extra precaution, waiting for Hermione to suddenly emerge. He had done his part, keeping out of sight at the ready in case he had Stun any of them if they caught Hermione escaping. He had panicked when they had set the back of the house on fire where she was supposed to make her getaway, but she would find another way, she always did. He waited patiently and was about to send up high-pitched screams of a dying woman as per instructions when they came from the cottage on their own.

His heart had stopped right then and it was all he could do not to go rushing into the house and ruin their plan to make sure she was alright. But Hermione had warned him of the consequences of messing this up and he wasn't about to let her down. It was possible she had sent up the screams herself or something had simply scared her for she didn't continue to scream as if she were burning to death.

The men had whooped and hollered and his fingers had itched to find their way around their throats. He could hear them asking one another if they thought the other two witches were in there with her so Draco thought he'd make a clean job of it by magicking his and Hermione's terrified shrieks as well. They had left soon after, figuring their job was done, leaving one man to make sure no one escaped. Draco had quickly taken care of him with a flying board to the back of his head so the others would think he had simply been knocked unconscious from falling debris.

And still, Hermione didn't emerge. Every minute that passed his heart sank, his stomach twisting. He knew the heat would be intense, the smoke consuming. A person could not live for long in a burning building and the house was completely engulfed now. There was no way for her to get out.

Hysterical, he charged at the flaming structure screaming her name, dousing the flames with his hand, trying to get to her, but the fired raged fiercely, keeping him at bay. It had been too long, he had waited too long. He should have gone in when he had heard her scream but his faith in her abilities had caused him to sentence her to a hellish death.

Shouts of anguish tore from his body as he hit the ground, unable to stand. He couldn't move, couldn't breathe, couldn't think. His mind was numb with terror. She couldn't be gone, she couldn't…

He was fused to the forest floor as guilt assailed him. In his mind he begged for her not to leave him, stranded here in the past knowing that she had died scared and hurt and alone in the worst way imaginable. He longed to throw himself into the flames with her but only the thought that if he found Alvida in France he could fix this, he could get her back, kept him from doing so.

His heart felt as if it had been ripped from his chest as his mind replayed all the images he had of her; eating in the Great Hall between Potter and Weasley, studying in the library amidst books that weighed as much as she did. He still felt her writhing beneath him in ecstasy, the punch in his gut when she'd raised her stubborn face to him in the forest and telling him to kiss her. He could see her yanking herself onto the gallows to save him, the determination in her eyes as she fought the Trackers in the meadow.

Tears scored down his cheeks unchecked when he thought about her sweet face being burned alive, the pain and terror she must have gone through. He wondered if she had thought of him in her last moments...

A snapping twig made him turn and scream _Petrificus Totalis!_ silently. The person hit the ground and he hurried over to the still body on the ground. Draco fell back into the nearest tree, his mind reeling.

A green dress. Alvida's green dress, the one she had given Hermione to change into after she'd taken the potion, was sprawled across the forest floor.

Draco threw himself at the figure hardly daring to believe. A quick _Finite Incatatum_ and there she was, wide eyes staring up at him, terrified, but alive. The tears resumed their path, this time in utter joy, as he cried out in relief and fell to the ground beside her, enveloping her in his arms, clinging to her while she questioned him and attempted to comfort him. He couldn't let go, he rocked her back and forth until he was able to regain some self-control.

When he pulled back enough to see her soot covered face his hands wandered her face and hair, drinking in her beauty, the sickening claws of dread easing their grip on him.

"Draco, what on earth-"

"I thought you were dead," he croaked, his hands shaking. "You didn't come out and I thought-"

"Oh, Draco, I'm so sorry, I didn't realize how long it would take me to get out. By the time I tried to escape my exit was blocked, I had to dig my way out. I'm so sorry!" She hugged him tight against her and he felt his head beginning to level. This was definitely his Hermione, apologizing for being alive.

"You screamed," he grated out, not able to get out more than that through the emotion still clenching his throat.

"Yes, a shelf fell, it hit my leg, but I'm alright. Madame Pomfrey will be able to fix it in no time."

"Let me see." He had to know, for certain, that she was alright. She shifted without question and showed him where the flame had burnt through the dress and her badly burned leg.

She wasn't alright, but she would live. That was it, she had burned her leg, she hadn't died, hadn't been swallowed in flames. She explained to him how she had gotten out and he hugged her to him again. She was so unbelievably clever, he never would have thought about doing that.

"Oh gods, I thought I'd lost you," he whispered against her hair which smelled of wood fire and smoke.

"I'm sorry," she breathed. "I'm alright, we did it, it's over. We can go home."

Draco's heart sunk. He knew she was only trying to comfort him, but the thought of returning home, returning to his father, his master, his task, was terrifying. He clenched her tighter, wishing he could keep her here a little longer, have her to himself just one more day…

"Draco, we have to go. We need to get to the point," Hermione gently reminded him. He nodded and stood, taking both of her hands and helping her slowly to her feet where she put her weight gingerly on her leg, gasping in pain. Before she could protest he had swept her up in his arms and headed back through the woods towards the designated spot where they would take the Time Turner back home.

...

XOXO

RynStar15


	18. Chapter 18

Draco ignored her protests, rolled his eyes when she said she weighed too much and carried on about him getting tired, that she could walk just fine, blah, blah, blah. He ignored the fact that his arms were killing him or that his back was sore. He didn't care that his legs yelled at him with every step. He needed her in his arms. Not once, not twice, but three times he had thought he had lost her. Too many close calls, too many almosts. He would carry her all the way to Australia if he had to.

His excuse was that there was no way she could go far with her leg as badly burnt as it was. This was true and she knew it, and it made him grin when she fumbled for other reasons why he should put her down. The damn witch could talk a poor bloke to death.

He finally snapped at her for making this harder than it should be and she had desisted.

For a while.

He couldn't help but smile at her stubborn will to do everything on her own. This was why he loved her so much and this was why he would miss her. Never in his life had he met someone so eager for independence. If she had broken both of her legs she would have tried to walk, that's just the way she was. Never wanting to burden others or depend on anyone but herself. She was so stubborn and self-sufficient he felt bad for the men who would attempt to win her over in the future.

And his heart ached knowing he would never be the one to do so.

They didn't have far to go. They were supposed to go to a safe point in a field in hopes that it would still be a field in the future. This part of the woods was not overly thick so the going was easier than before, but Draco would still be more than happy if he never stepped foot in a forest again. He'd had enough of mother nature these past ten days to last him a lifetime.

The full moon led the way until they emerged on the other side, a carefully tended meadow lying before them.

Draco set Hermione down gently and pulled her to him so that her back was to his chest and he wrapped his arms around her while they stared out at the scene before them. Below, hills of muted green rolled in the moon drenched light. A frigid breeze stirred the strands of grass that were usually used for grazing sheep according to Alvida. She had warned about wolves in the area and he remembered how Hermione had paled at the mention of the animal and wondered again whether she had some sort of campaign to save the creatures, though he had no idea why.

His heart was heavy as they stood there. He was terrified to move, knowing that when he did, he would lose her forever. His decision to not tell Hermione about their choice to stay was a hard one, but he knew it was the right thing to do. She didn't need the pain of having to choose between her infatuation with him and her family. The sun would rise soon and they would leave to a world where anything could have happened while they were gone, or worse, they could have _caused_ any number of things to happen. He had no idea whether any of their actions here would have future reprocussions. He _did_ sort of murder one or two people…

Draco sighed, closing his eyes. He wished for just a moment that this night would never end.

He could feel her chest tremble beneath his arms and knew she was holding back tears. He dug his face into her shoulder, kissing the smooth skin presented there, closing his eyes and etching this moment into his mind.

"It's almost time," she said, her voice small. The Time Turner Alvida had given them was set to go off at dawn. This original version was set at a specific moment by Alvida alone. She'd only managed to make them jump forward in years, but not days, and it worked almost like a Portkey, operating only once at a given time.

"I guess this is goodbye then," he murmured, his heart heavy. Hermione turned in his arms, tears in her eyes. He wished she wouldn't, he didn't want this to be any harder than it already was.

"It doesn't have to be, Draco. You have other options. Come with me, back to the headquarters. You'll be welcomed with open arms by everyone. We'll protect your family, we'll do everything-"

He stopped her arguments with a shake of his head. "Hermione, we've gone over this before. You know it's impossible."

"It's not!" she cried, the tears finally escaping. "We can figure it out! They must already think you're dead by now, we can keep you hidden-"

"And sacrifice my parents?" he asked, making her stammer into silence. "Hermione, you don't understand. When Voldemort brands you he can find you wherever you go. When I return, he'll know."

"Well, then we'll find your parents, bring them to a safe house-"

"If my parents stayed with you, you'd be in constant danger. The Dark Lord has his own ways of tracking his followers. We'd be hunted every single moment of every single day. We're too close, we know too much."

"We'll figure it out, we'll find a way-"

He shook his head again, stalling her arguments. "My father would never come, and my mother will never leave him. He believes in the Dark Lord's lies, he would never leave his side."

"But if it was to protect you-"

"You really think he would give up his place in the Dark Lord's reign to protect me?" Draco thundered. "Not everyone has good in them, Hermione! The world isn't full of misunderstood people who secretly want to be virtuous inside! These people are evil; there _is_ no good in them, my father included. There might have been once but it's been washed away by years of hate. All they think about is who they can kill next and just so you know, that's you!"

She stumbled back from him, the color in her face draining. "What are you saying?"

"I'm saying that you are on the top of the hit list. That was why I was in the dungeons that day," he confessed. "I was following you. The Dark Lord ordered me to keep my eye on you, to take you out and present you to Potter as a way to get him to come over to save the rest of his friends."

The look in Hermione's face cut him to the quick and Draco cursed.

"When you came around the corner I almost killed you then," he said, the memory seizing him with the same terror he'd felt that day. He'd known when he'd been given the task that he'd never be able to follow through, no matter how much they'd fought back at school. Hermione was innocent; annoying as hell, but innocent. "I couldn't… As soon as I saw you I panicked, so I grabbed you instead, thought if I interrogated you, if I could get some information, maybe that would be enough..."

She looked at the ground, unable to meet his gaze. He couldn't blame her. He was a monster.

"I already told you that it doesn't matter," she murmured to the ground. "I figured that had to be the reason, especially you didn't seem to know about Nagini."

"Tell me."

A sad look came across her face as she gazed up at him. "I can't. Not unless you promise to come to our side. It's too dangerous otherwise."

He knew she was trying to trick him, but he wouldn't fall for it. His father would probably be able to explain it to him anyways. Nagini must be some sort of weapon, maybe she had powers he didn't know about and the Order didn't want her to be used against them so they had ordered Hermione to dispose of the snake. Stupid of them to send her down there alone. She could have been killed! She was the smartest witch they had and yet they were sending her on suicide missions. Didn't they realize how important she was?

The two of them were quiet. They didn't know what to say to each other. The moon sunk lower and lower into the sky. They were delaying. They needed to head down to the field so they would be ready when the Time Turner activated.

"Let's go," Draco finally said, his voice unusually gravelly. Hermione nodded and sidestepped him when he tried to pick her up. He didn't persist, just took the satchel from her shoulder and transferred it to his own. He watched her carefully as she winced and limped down the hill to the meadow below. His jaw clenched knowing how much pain she must be in, knowing she chose it over his touch.

When they reached the level terrain below Hermione held out her hand for the bag and he handed it to her wordlessly. Looking at the lightening sky, she dug out the Time Turner and wrapped the necklace around them both.

He looked into her eyes and held them there, willing her to see inside him, to see the anguish it caused him to let her go. She looked away, her eyes swimming with pain as dawn crept ever closer.

"Hold onto me," she grated out, still not able to meet his gaze. "I don't know what will happen and I don't want you to go flying off halfway there."

He nodded and grasped her around the waist, ready to take her weight when they landed so she wouldn't injure her leg further. He memorized the feel of her body next to his, knew if he bent down right now and kissed that spot behind her ear that she would shudder, that if he sucked on her neck she would moan. He knew that if his kissed her lips he would fall and never be able to do what he knew he had to.

"Ready?" she asked, her voice tight.

 _No._ "Yes."

And as the sun peaked above the horizon a rush of wind and a whirl of colors made Draco slam his eyes shut, the sensation of being wrung like a sponge consuming him as the air was ripped from his lungs.

When he landed he stumbled, overbalancing onto his back and bringing Hermione down with him, holding her tightly for a moment as his world righted. He slowly sat up with her in his lap, clenching his shirt and her likely still spinning head, and looked around. They were still in a field but the surroundings were much different. He could see a country highway not far off, a blue farmhouse stood behind him and in the distance he could see the rumbling city of London. A red car sped along on the road, oblivious to the fact that they had just arrived from the thirteenth century.

The sun was just peaking over the horizon, spreading its light over them, and Draco drank it in, keeping one arm tightly wrapped around Hermione.

"Are you sure we're in the right time?" he asked nervously. If there were cars they were certainly in the future, but that didn't mean it was the correct year...

"I hope so. If it worked correctly, it should be the same day exactly 762 years later. According to Alvida it shouldn't work more than once, so let's hope it did what it was supposed to."

She turned to him, her eyes echoing the emotions that roiled within him. Her look was one of such longing it struck him to the core. He broke and kissed her long and hard, a melding of lips and souls. He took this last moment, letting it soothe his soul and prepare him for the days to come. He knew he needed to stop; they needed to go, to get away from each other, to go back to their own lives.

So why was it so damn hard to stop himself? He couldn't get himself to pull away…

 _You can. You must. There is too much at stake. The Dark Lord will murder you both if he knew. Your parents could even now be dead from your disappearance. They're counting on you to go back, to save them, to do what you were meant to do. Hermione deserves so much more than what you can give her. If you truly love her, you'll let her go, now, before it's too late._

He squeezed his eyes shut. It was so hard, so fucking hard to do what he had to do. He was so tired of it all, so tired of the killing and the fighting. He just wanted it all to end so he could finally find peace. He was too weak, far too weak to do what he was charged to do. He was supposed to kill her but the thought made him sick.

He had known before that he couldn't kill her any more than he had killed Dumbledore. But now, now things had changed. He knew he couldn't let someone else kill her either, not after what she had done for him, not after he had seen the person she truly was. She was brave and smart and caring. No wonder Golden Boy kept her around. She was the type of person you could count on in a tight situation. You knew she always had your back as well as your front. Draco knew he loved her, knew he would never succeed in his task, even if it meant his death.

He would keep her safe, no matter what the cost.

So though it killed him inside, he knew what he had to do. He had to push her away, make her hate him again. He had to break her heart in order to save her life.

Steeling himself, he pulled away from her, lifting the chain up over his head and dropping the necklace casually into her palm.

"Well, Granger, it's been fun. You gave it up a hell of a lot easier than I would have guessed for a prude such as yourself. Haven't had a virgin in _years._ Guess you've wanted a piece of me for a while, eh?" He gave her his signature smirk while she looked at him dumbfounded, hurt. He told himself to be strong as he laughed at her, shoving her off his lap.

"You're kidding me, right? You actually thought all that was real, didn't you? All that sick, lovey-dovey shit? Fuck, you're more gullible than Crabbe and Goyle and I could make them eat their own bogies by telling them it was nutritious. Merlin, Granger, you need to get your dirty little cunt out there more."

Her mouth opened and closed wordlessly, shock and pain lining her face. He chortled, digging into the bag situated at her hip and grabbing his wand, twirling it aimlessly.

"I suppose you're new to the game. Maybe someday you'll understand. You could use the practice anyway."

He stood and stretched as if he hadn't a care in the world. "Alright there, Mudblood? Did I bruise your Gryffindor pride? Don't worry, you'll get over me eventually. Tell Potty and Weasel I said to suck it, and oh yeah," he grinned down at her disbelieving face. "Where are my manners? Thanks for the fuck, it'd been a while. _Obviously_ or I'd never have lowered myself to it. It's disappointing I had to stoop to the likes of you, but what's a bloke to do? Didn't exactly have many options. Eh, I'll just have to scrub my body raw to be rid of the taint. No harm done."

Hermione hugged herself, her face falling at his words and he wanted to scream at her that it wasn't real, this wasn't who he was anymore. But he knew what he was doing now was for the best, it would keep her safe. She would hate him for a while but then she would get over it, get over him.

He began to walk away but turned last minute and said "The next time you meet me, you better be ready to fight. I won't be so easy a second time. I'm only letting you get away now because I do technically owe you, and a Malfoy does not renege on debts. But here me now: I'll see your arse dead before I ever look at it again. See you around, Mudblood."

And he Apparated away.

...

Hermione rocked herself in the grass, telling herself over and over that it wasn't true, it couldn't be true. But the look in his eyes told her otherwise. That look of utter loathing and disgust was hard to mask.

One half of her wanted to believe he had done it to make the parting easier, but the other half, the fore half, told her she was just being naïve. He didn't care for her, how could he? They had helped each other out, sure, and had some good times, but people couldn't change that much. Loathing was a difficult feeling to overcome. She'd thought, _hoped,_ he'd changed, but he'd proven her wrong.

So as the dew soaked through her dress and the sun rose above her, mocking her pain, she cried and cried for what she had thought she'd found, for what she would never have again.

When the tears dried up she clutched the satchel to her and stood shakily. Thinking of Grimmauld Place she turned on her heel and landed in the front hallway of the dingy house. Pain radiated up her leg and she bit her lip to keep from crying out. There were voices downstairs so she limped silently down and pressed her ear against the kitchen door. She could hear Molly's voice and the sound made her heart clench.

"-have to eat something, dear. Just a spot of toast?" she cajoled.

"No thanks, Mrs. Weasley." She could hear Harry's deep tones and her eyes welled once more. He was safe, he was alive, her best friend was right on the other side of this door. She knew she should go to him, but her feet were rooted to the floor. She kept her ear pressed against the door, her heart humming at the familiar voices.

"Harry, dear." She heard a chair scrape across the floor. "You need to talk about this."

"I'm fine," he muttered and she could hear the pain in his voice and her heart ached.

"You're not fine, dear. None of us are fine, not since…"

"I don't want to talk about it. There's nothing to talk about."

There was silence for a moment until it sounded as if Molly had stood and gone back to her work.

Now was as good as ever, she supposed. Steeling herself, she opened the door hesitantly, not sure why she was suddenly so nervous. Both their backs were turned, Molly busy at the stove and Harry sitting in the closest chair at the long wooden table with his head in his hands.

"Ron, dear, could you give me a hand? I need to-" Molly turned and dropped the plate of eggs in her hands. She screamed and Harry shot to his feet with his wand out, pointing straight at her.

A long moment passed as the three of them looked at each other. Then Harry seemed to collapse, having to hang onto the table for support as he fell to his knees. Molly ran towards her, sobbing, and wrapped her in a motherly embrace while Hermione watched their reactions, her feet glued to the floor, unable to move.

Hermione was numb. She had figured she would be glad to be back, happy to see everyone alive and well, but she felt nothing but a gaping emptiness as Molly cried onto her shoulder before she was ripped out of her arms by a similarly weeping Harry. Hermione held her best friend close and stroked his hair, much as she had done to Draco the night before when he'd thought her dead. Her heart clenched at the memory. It had all been an act.

Harry and Molly were attempting to lower Hermione into a chair when the kitchen door swung open again.

"What the bloody hell is going on in-" Hermione heard Ron bellow behind her. She turned just enough so that Ron's freckled face came into view, draining of all color as he laid eyes on her. "Bloody hell... Hermione? Hermione!"

She braced herself as Ron barreled into her, sweeping her off her feet and holding her close, his tears mixing with the others on Alvida's dress. She heard Molly claim she was going to find the others and the three of them were left alone. The boys pressed her into a chair and knelt in front of her, their eyes wide with disbelief, their familiar faces not bringing the elation she'd thought she'd had at seeing them again.

"Are you alright?" Ron asked concernedly, his thumb swiping at soot on her cheek.

"I'm fine," she reassured them. "I'm just tired."

"Hermione, what happened? Where have you been?" Harry asked, his voice sounding somewhat constricted.

"And what the bloody hell are you wearing?" Ron chimed in, taking in her dress.

"I just want to tell everyone at once if you don't mind. It's sort of a long story," she murmured, looking down at her dirt caked hands. She must be quite a sight to see.

They both nodded and hugged her again saying how glad they were to see her and how everyone had thought she had died. When the door opened Hermione was barely able to register the youngest Weasley before she was being embraced by her as well while she sobbed about how she had lost her best friend and now she was back. Hermione soothed them all, telling them she was alright and she was sorry to have worried them.

One by one people stormed in, demanding to see her. She had been hugged by all the Weasleys, kissed by Fleur. Tonks, Remus, Dung, Kingsley, and a whole slew of others were there, raving about her cleverness in escaping wherever she'd been taken prisoner. Moody had even clapped her on the back and that was the most emotion she had ever seen him display.

She felt as if she were in a trance, as if she were watching all these people rush through, giving her hugs and kisses, crying and elating in her return, but not really a part of the celebration. She felt like an empty shell, the words Draco had said still reverberating in her head. She could see the ecstatic faces around her, heard their voices. She could see the cup of tea that had been thrust in her hands by an unknown person, probably Mrs. Weasley, but she couldn't taste it as the hot liquid slid down her throat, soothing the roughness from the smoke and her earlier tears. She was so tired and all she wanted to do was go to bed and never wake up.

"Hermione?"

Someone was saying her name. She looked up and saw Harry's green eyes peering at her in concern. "We're taking you to St. Mungo's now, okay?"

She shook her head, suddenly aware that everyone was staring at her and the room had gone silent. "No, no, I'm alright. I don't want to go."

Harry exchanged looks with Remus and knelt next to her. "Hermione, you haven't heard a word anyone has said to you. You look like you're going to faint on the spot. You need to be looked over."

"Nothing is wrong with me. I'm just tired. If you could call Madame Pomfrey I'll allow her to look at my leg but I don't need to go to the hospital. I don't need medical attention."

"Your leg?" Lupin asked. "What happened to your leg?"

She felt the burning, it was about the only thing she _did_ feel, and knew she would scar something horrible. She lifted the charred dress that no one had seemed to notice in the commotion and showed it to him.

"Bleeding skies, Hermione!" Harry yelled, grabbing at her injured leg while Molly bustled around frantically, looking for a potion to ease the pain. "Why didn't you say something?"

She shrugged. She didn't even know why she was here and not back in that field begging Draco to stay with her. By now he was probably being welcomed with open arms by the Death Eaters. She shivered when she thought about it. It was better this way- she had to remind herself. _You're two different people with completely different ideals. You can't force him to be someone he's not, even if you know who he could be… He used you, he made you fall for him so you would get him back home and now you're paying the price for your stupidity. He doesn't want you. He wants you dead._

Someone was trying to pull her up, Harry again, and she yanked her arm out of his grasp.

"No! I'm not going anywhere!" she snapped, her anger at Draco flaring to lash out at Harry. "I don't need to be poked and prodded at by some Healer who will shove unknown potions into my body for mere amusement. Please, just call Madame Pomfrey. You know she'll take good care of me."

Potions. She needed to take her potion for her wound. While Harry and Remus eyed each other and the others sat nervously, unsure of how to proceed, she looked around, spotting the satchel she'd dropped without realizing. She grabbed the leather bag and lifted it into her lap, digging around inside it for the potion vial.

"Er, Hermione?" Ron said timidly. She ignored him and continued to forage while murmurs broke out at her eccentric behavior. Hermione wrinkled her brow as her hand touched something foreign. She grabbed it and pulled it out.

It was an apple. She thought about the day Draco had found the apples and how she had made him kiss her. She remembered how desire had flooded his steely eyes, how the apple had fallen from his grasp as he'd grabbed her up, his lips searing against hers. She could still feel his hands upon her, the way he could drag her under with just a simple touch.

She burst into tears as the people around her stared, perplexed.

...

XOXO

RynStar15


	19. Chapter 19

Draco stood in the weak November morning light staring at his childhood home. The place where he had learned to walk and talk, where he had made his first magical discovery by causing a house elf to fly across the room without even touching him. The place where the Dark Lord currently resided deep in the bowels of their magical fortress.

The Dark Lord had thought the Manor was impenetrable, but he had been proven wrong when the Order and a slew of Aurors had burst their way into the entrance hall. He remembered seeing Hermione at the fore, guarding Potter with her wand drawn, ready to fight to the death. He remembered his father leaning down into his ear and whispering, "Kill her," before magicking on his mask and joining the fray.

Draco had lingered towards the sidelines, being every bit the coward he was, as he watched Hermione battle fiercely, taking down Death Eaters left and right, her dark eyes flashing. He remembered thinking that would be her downfall and he wouldn't have to do anything, someone else would kill her for him and then that weight would be off his shoulders.

It wasn't long before she had stopped suddenly and looked at their ex-Professor Moody. The two had locked eyes and hers had glazed over for a moment. He knew that look well and was curious as to why the crazy ex-Auror had seen fit to cast an Imperius Curse on the girl in the middle of battle. She'd just stood there; spells flying around her, causing her hair to flutter as they skimmed passed her head.

Then she was running, casting spells over her shoulder much like she had when they had been racing across the field to the forest on that damnable horse. When she had pulled open the doors for the dungeons, he knew his time had come. His father had found him from across the room and given him a curt nod, a sign to go and do as he was supposed to do.

Too bad the damn witch made it impossible. If only he'd known then what would happen after he pounded down those steps behind her. Would he have gone, knowing how terribly hard he would fall for her, knowing that she would capture his heart, save his soul, and become the cause of his death?

It was a question he wasn't sure he wanted to know the answer to. What was done was done, and now his short life was scrambling towards its bitter end with no way to stop it.

So now he stood looking up at the Malfoy Manor, even the name making him sick. He would find his father and lie, lie until they grew tired of it, lie to save Hermione, lie himself into his grave. For he knew they would never believe him, never believe that he had beat her in battle, just as they knew he'd never defeat Dumbledore. But he had to try; for once in his sorry life he would have courage, because if he didn't, it was Hermione who would suffer, and that was a price he was not willing to pay.

Throwing open the doors of the place he had once deemed "home" he strode to his father's lounge, knowing at this time of day he would be there, reading the Prophet and thinking up gruesome ways to torture innocent people. Draco slipped into the room and saw the back of his father's pale, shiny hair as he was bent over the paper, a tumbler of Firewhiskey floating in the air next to him.

"I thought I made it quite clear that I was not to be disturbed, so if you wish to keep your grisly features I suggest you remove yourself, very, very quickly," his father drawled without turning around.

"It's me, father," he announced.

Lucius turned the page of the Prophet, glancing over the articles there leisurely before he turned and stared at his son for a moment, his schooled features revealing not an ounce of what went on behind those steely grey eyes, so like his own.

"So I see. Come here, Draco." Lucius turned back around and put down the paper on the table beside him, hefting the glass floating before him instead. Draco closed his mind so his father would not be able to see his thoughts. He was a skilled Legilimens but Draco was strong in the art of Occlumency, taught by the man before him.

Draco walked over and knelt in front of his father as was custom, one knee on the ground, the other propped at a precise right angle, his forearm leaning on it, his head bent.

"Stand."

Draco stood and stared at him. The next thing he knew he was on the floor writhing and screaming in pain. His father's Cruciatus Curse could rival the Dark Lord's, for he'd felt the wrath of both. When the curse was lifted he immediately hefted himself to his feet, knowing how he'd pay if he remained on the floor, and faced his father as if nothing had happened.

"Where have you been?" Lucius asked conversationally sipping from the decanter in his hand.

Knowing his father would never fall for it, Draco weaved a tale of battling Hermione and how she had Apparated them away to some unknown location in the mountains. He carefully explained exactly how he had killed her, how much he had reveled in her blood, how she had begged at the end. As he brought his story to a close his father smiled, a terrifying image on his cold face.

"I see you have taken a few tips from your dear Aunt Bella. However, my son, you never could quite get the knack of it like she. You see, you are a poor liar and for that, you shall suffer. Now, as thrilling of a tale you have just spun, I require the truth. Tell me what you were really up to."

Draco was silent for a moment. He would not reveal his beautiful adventure with Hermione. He had to find a way to save her, to remove her from their hit list. It had been nearly a fortnight since he had left, what could he say that his father would believe?

"I ran father." _That_ at least was believable. "Forgive your coward of a son. I killed the Mudblood and Potter came after me. After their breach of our walls I did not feel safe returning and feared for my life. I have returned only because I have grown weary of running and am looking for sanctuary."

Lucius nodded, showing he accepted this version more readily. "You killed Miss Granger, you say?"

"Yes."

He nodded again, his jaw tight, and Draco knew he was still doubtful of his story. "The Dark Lord will be most pleased that you succeeded in something useful for once, but understand, Draco, he has been most infuriated by your cowardice."

Draco bowed his head in submission. "I understand, father, and I am willing to accept the punishment he deems necessary."

"Accept it or not, it will be dealt most swiftly. Tell me, did our infamous Mudblood have any last words?"

Draco chewed over the question. He didn't want to sell Hermione out, but he could finally find out what Nagini and Wormtail had to do with all this. Maybe if he knew, he could do something about it, one good deed before he died to help Hermione win this war. "She said something about killing Nagini. Why would she want to kill the snake?"

Lucius froze, his fingers tightening around his glass, his eyes flashing with fury and…fear?

"What did she say about Nagini?" he demanded.

"Not much," Draco confessed, instantly regretting his curiosity and backtracking. "Just something about the snake and killing it."

Before he could even register that his father had moved he was on his feet and grabbing Draco roughly by the upper arms, the forgotten decanter shattering across the hardwood.

"What else?" he snapped dangerously. It was then that Draco realized he definitely shouldn't have said anything. What had he done? How deep did these waters he had just dived into run? It was just a snake, for Merlin's sake!

"Nothing, sir," Draco said, refusing to be bullied by the older man.

Draco felt the sensation of his head being trapped in a vise and he threw up a white wall in his mind, shoving it forward, refusing to allow his father passage into the depths of his mind. He'd never been able to hold the man off for long, but knowing that Hermione would be viciously slaughtered if Lucius saw his love for her kept him strong, his entire body quaking with the effort it took to hold the older man off.

Draco was thrown to the side, smashing into a side table and knocking it over, snapping off a leg which dug into his ribs. He grunted but did not cry out as he wanted so badly to at the stinging pain, not wanting to give his father the satisfaction. Lucius rarely resorted to Muggle punishments and the knowledge that he was so incised he would succomb to such showed how truly enraged he was.

"Get up!"

Draco complied, staring at his father who was more nervous than Draco had ever seen him. He paced the parlor with the back of his hand pressed to his lips.

"Did she say anything about the Horcux?"

Horcrux? What did a Horcrux have to do with anything?

Then Draco felt as if he'd been punched in the gut. During all of her nonsense babbling Hermione hadn't said "Whore-crooks," she'd been trying to say Horcrux.

"Wait, are you saying Nagini is a Horcrux?" Draco asked, disgusted down to his soul at the thought. He remembered what his father had told him about Horcruxes years ago and it made him sick to think about the possibility of the Dark Lord obtaining one. Lucius glared at him.

"What makes you think you are worthy of such knowledge, you insolent boy? I asked you a question! _Did-she-mention-the-Horcrux?"_

Merlin, what had he done? If Nagini was indeed a Horcrux then the only way to kill the Dark Lord was to kill the snake first…and he'd just given away the Order's advantage. His heart sank to somewhere in the region of his kneecaps. He'd just sentenced them all to death.

"No," he lied. It didn't matter; his father knew the truth anyway. Draco found himself on the ground writhing in pain from another torturous curse. He refused to cry out, but the sound was ripped from his lips anyway, unable to stop it.

When the pain ceased his father's face was inches from his own. "You will tell me the truth or I will kill you now and spare our Master the trouble! What does she know about the snake?"

"I don't know, sir. She only mentioned the snake before I killed her."

Lucius stood and motioned for Draco to do the same as well. He did so stiffly and watched his father pace again.

"You killed her, you say?"

"Yes, sir."

"And what did you do with her body?"

 _Oh, shit…_ "I burned it."

Lucius raised his pale eyebrows. "Did you, now? And what did you do with the ashes?"

"I buried them. In multiple places. I wanted to cover my tracks." Draco kept a straight face, bringing to mind an image of his burning Hermione's body and burying the ashes. He kept hidden the part of him that felt sick at the thought. His father would see what he wanted to see.

Lucius did not attempt to enter his mind again, however. He stopped pacing and grabbed his snake-head cane. He struck a pose with the staff in front of him, both hands resting on the snake's head. His silver eyes met Draco's and he sneered.

"You truly believe you can outsmart me, don't you boy? You've always thought yourself so clever, so entitled. But you are weak, you are _nothing._ You will learn to obey if I have to kill you to achieve it. You will wait in the dungeons until our Master decides what is to become of you and your dear mother."

Draco thought fleetingly of running, of taking up Hermione's offer to be on their side. But it was too late.

Lucius snapped his fingers and two large Death Eaters appeared on either side of him. Draco was bound in ropes and toppled to the floor where the two men hefted him up and carted him to the dungeons bucking and screaming.

When they threw him in the cell he fought. His ability to use magic without a wand gave him the upper hand for a moment but he was soon pinned to the floor by yet another Cruciatus. Before Draco could clear his head he was in chains, shackled to the cold, hard wall. It was no use now. The manacles prevented him from doing any magic and he would receive a shock every time he tried.

He continued to fight, however, until an invisible hand closed around his throat. His eyes watered as he looked at his father once again, the man who had raised him, the man who must surely have loved him at some point, as he stared at him through the bars of the cell.

"You _will_ obey. When you are ready to tell me the truth we will reassess your future. It is very bleak, Draco. For the sake of your mother I would start to talk if I were you."

"Never!" Draco spat against the iron vise around his neck. Lucius's lips curled into an evil snarl.

"You will."

Draco was beginning to lose consciousness. He kept the walls up in his mind to defend his thoughts of Hermione's beautiful face burning in the back of his mind. Just before he blacked out the hold was released and he could hear the evil laughter of his father echo against the stone walls of the dungeon. His last thought was if Hermione had found the apple yet.

...

Hermione closed her eyes in utter bliss as a cooling balm was rubbed on her burning leg. The sun hanging in the sky outside was disappearing behind a pair of clouds making their way across the grey. It would rain soon and she was glad for it. The sun made her angry.

The living room was quiet. Ron, Harry, Ginny, and Mrs. Weasley had been permitted to stay as Madame Pomfrey clucked over her while the rest of the Order members were forced to wait in the kitchen. Potions were shoved down her throat and she didn't complain. Anything to get this over with so she could go to bed, though she knew she wouldn't be allowed to until she had explained what had happened.

By her insistence Harry had explained what had been happening since she'd left while they had waited for Madame Pomfrey to arrive back with Tonks. Apparently, Moody had seen her and Draco disappear and ran for the dungeons and Harry, knowing she had gone down there, followed him. When they couldn't find her Harry insisted they retreat to search. When he had told Ron what had happened he had backed his friend and they forced everyone to leave, telling them the plan had failed. They had spent the following two weeks trying to find her.

Hermione looked up at her friends. Harry looked as though he'd aged ten years, Ron's eyes were red and swollen, and Ginny had dark circles under hers. Guilt assailed her knowing she was the cause of all their suffering. She smiled reassuringly at them as they stared at her with concern.

"I'm alright. Really. Just a couple cuts and bruises, no permanent damage." Not on the outside anyway.

Harry looked grief stricken as he buried his hands in his pockets, his chin trembling.

"I thought you were dead," he said in a lifeless tone.

"I'm sorry," she whispered. "I'm so sorry I worried you all."

"Hermione, don't apologize!" Ginny scolded. "It's us who should be apologizing to you, making you go and do missions you shouldn't have done in the first place, let alone doing it by yourself-"

"You know I was the one who had to use the Time-Turner, I am by far the most experienced. As for Nagini, I asked for that task. I _wanted_ to kill her. It was my choice, _mine_ , none of you forced me to do it. What happened that day in the dungeons was an accident; no one could have planned for it to happen."

"What _did_ happen?" Harry asked again, sounding frustrated. She knew he must be, they all must be, not knowing what had happened to prevent her from returning to them for nearly two weeks.

Hermione closed her eyes in utter exhaustion at the thought of regaling them with her long and complicated journey. "I'll tell you when I have to tell everyone else. I'm too tired to go over it more than once."

Harry sighed, a hand going to his messy hair. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean-"

"It's okay, Harry. I understand how confused you must be. It's just…" She was shocked to feel tears stinging behind her eyes. "It's been a very, _very_ long couple of weeks."

They fell silent again until Madame Pomfrey arrived and _tutted_ over her for nearly an hour. She finally finished and declared her able to answer their questions after she ate but then she was to go straight to bed with a Sleeping Draught. Mrs. Weasley assured the nurse she would follow through with the orders and the plump woman took her departure, stating that if she wanted to know what had happened to every person who had ever passed by her care she would have gone mad.

Hermione took the hand Ron offered to help her up and was somewhat stunned when he didn't let go. She felt ashamed of herself, but the feel of his slightly sweaty palm resting against hers made her nauseous. She allowed him to lead her down to the basement kitchen, however, and took a seat at the head of the table while Mrs. Weasley brought her a plate of food that had been kept warm.

She ate it slowly, her stomach churning. Everyone watched until she complained about them staring and they all got themselves breakfast, even Harry. She felt better eating when everyone else was.

The small room was packed, people from the Order filled the tiny kitchen and the table had been stretched to accommodate them and the few Aurors who also made themselves present. When she couldn't eat anymore the plate was taken from her and a mug of hot tea replaced it. Apparently, she needed tea to talk, though she didn't complain when she took a soothing sip and realized that it had been laced with a Calming Draught.

A hush fell over everyone and all eyes were on her. She felt like she had when all the students had gathered at the Hogs Head and they had all looked to her to take lead. Weariness settled upon her heart, but she fought through it and began her story.

She told them everything, even the part about her molestation. She couldn't stop her mouth as soon as it started. The only parts she had left out were the ones about her and Draco. Those she keep hidden away in a place only she and Draco could touch them.

By the time she had finally finished Molly was crying, Ron was rubbing his ruddy face, and Harry hadn't taken his eyes off the ground in quite some time. Many people around the room looked as though she'd hit them over the head with a broom, even the twins were silent. Remus cleared his throat and looked at her.

"Thank you for telling us, I can see how hard it must have been for you to relive all of that." His words were gentle, his knuckles white where they clenched Tonks'. "You should rest now. You've been through tremendous amount these last couple of weeks, and I believe I can speak for everyone here that we all wish for you to discontinue with your mission. It will be assigned to someone else. You don't have to do anything now but rest."

"No."

They all stared at her.

"Hermione-" Remus started again.

"No, there is no point in trying to talk me out of it. I'm doing it. I promised I would, and I will. All I ask is a couple of days to recuperate and think up a new plan. I've wasted enough time as it is."

"That wasn't your fault!" Ron roared.

"Ron-"

"No, mum! Hermione, listen. We all thought you were dead, DEAD! And now you want to go and risk your life _again?_ I won't allow it!"

"You won't _allow_ it? I will thank you to know that I will do as I please, Ronald! I'm a grown witch, I know what I am doing!"

"You're addled, after everything you've been through-"

"Addled? _Addled?_ I am not _addled,_ Ron! What is wrong with you?"

"Wrong with _me?"_ Ron shot to his feet sending his chair to the floor with a loud crash. "You're the one with the problem here! You seem to think _nothing_ of other people when you go risking your neck on stupid missions! Do you realize the hell we've all been through?"

"Ron, I'm sorry, I told you I was sorry-"

"Just shut up for a minute, will you?" he roared, his freckled cheeks flaming. "You don't get it! I couldn't sleep, I couldn't _eat,_ I know Harry couldn't either. He hasn't even been in his bed for _days!_ Why don't you think of him? Or Ginny? Do you know how _she_ felt about all this? She's been crying _every single day_ since you left!"

"Ron, stop it!" Ginny shouted across the table. "You're not helping anything!"

"Ron, son, calm down," Arthur said putting a hand on his youngest boy's shoulder. "Losing Hermione was hard on us all, but she's back now. She's safe."

"And all she wants to do is go back out there and kill herself!" he screamed, his arms flailing.

"Ron, it's her choice. Her decision. If she wants to do it, then I trust her," Harry said, his voice dead, but determined.

Ron turned to his best friend, sputtering. "You're _siding_ with her? Did you so easily forget how you felt just yesterday?"

"No. I will never forget it. But I trust Hermione more than anyone," Harry said, looking to Hermione, his face serious. "She's the smartest witch I know. She can do it, I know she can. It's her decision. If that's what she needs to do, then I get it. I know what it is to need to see something through, knowing that if you don't you'll lose a piece of your soul forever. So I will support her and do everything in my power to make sure she is safe." Harry caught her hand and she silently thanked him for his loyalty.

"This is bullocks!" Ron thundered, pounding the table with his fists. Hermione jumped, her nerves fraught, and Ginny hurried over to stand by her.

"Ron, come on, let's go-" Bill told his younger brother, starting forward.

 _"No!_ Why are you guys encouraging this? This is bloody madness! We just got her back and now you want to send her out to die _again?"_

Hermione took a stand, literally, and turned to her friend. "Ron, I am fully capable of dealing with this. I understand that you're worried and your concern for my welfare touches my heart more than I can say. But this is my mission, my choice. No one else's. I will accept the consequences."

Ron looked at her with tears in his eyes. "And what happens to me? I can't do it again, Hermione, I can't go through that again." Fat tears rolled down his cheeks and Hermione's heart broke. She knew she would feel exactly the same way if it had been he who had gone missing. She moved forward and wrapped her arms around Ron who held her close, sobbing into her hair.

When he had calmed down enough, Arthur and Harry ushered him from the room and Ginny, Fleur, and Mrs. Weasley came forth to urge her to bed. She went willingly, pleading to take a bath first.

While she soaked in the soothing suds Mrs. Weasley had prepared (she had a slight feeling they were heavily dosed with a Pain Reliving Potion), she closed her eyes and Draco's face floated across her vision. She wondered if he was alright, what his parents had thought of his absence, what he had told them. She wondered if she would ever see him again and, if she did, how she would ever be able to look at him without remembering his warm hands upon her skin, his pillow lips on her neck, the moment when he'd made her his for all eternity.

A knock sounded on the door and Hermione jumped as Ginny popped her head in.

"Sorry," the red head mumbled. "I didn't mean to startle you."

"No, no, it's alright," Hermione said breathlessly, wondering where this sudden edginess had come from.

Ginny's face was full of concern as she looked down at her friend who was still clutching her heart in fear. "Are you doing okay, Hermione?" she asked, quietly.

"Yes, I'm fine, it's just a little strange to be back here, I suppose. Why?"

"Well, it's only that you've been in here for over an hour now and mum's starting to worry that you've drowned."

"An hour?" she said, shocked. "Are you serious? I had no idea it had been that long! Sorry, I'll get out. Tell your mum I'm fine, I just-"

"It's no problem, stay as long as you want!" Ginny said hurriedly, obviously scared of upsetting her further. Hermione hated what her disappearance and consequent strange mood had done to those around her.

"Just… I'm here, you know, if you need me. And…don't forget to take your Sleeping Draught tonight."

Her heart clenched. "I won't. Thanks, Gin."

She left and Hermione decided it was probably time to get out before more women came bursting in to check on her. She couldn't believe how long she'd been there. The one thing she loved about magical baths was that they never got cold.

She washed her hair three times before she was satisfied and scrubbed her body raw to get all the dirt and filth from the last couple of weeks off. She shaved and felt her gloriously smooth skin for the first time in a fortnight. When she got out she had to refill her toothbrush with toothpaste twice until she felt her teeth were finally clean. She magicked a brush to work through her tangles while she slathered cream on her body and face, enjoying the feeling of being properly clean again.

When she finally stumbled into her and Ginny's bedroom she grabbed the satchel that one of the women had placed next to it and dug in it for the fruit. She knew Draco had put it in there, for she certainly hadn't, and they had gone through the bag multiple times before leaving.

The pain in her heart increased when she found the apple. How could she have been so blind? How could she ever have thought he would want her? But he had to have felt _something,_ otherwise why would he have left this unmistakable reminder of their brief affair? It had seemed so real at the time; he had shown her emotions that were seemingly impossible to fake.

Hermione could feel the tears welling once more and fought them back. He wasn't worth it. He wasn't worth her pain and heartache. Whatever he had felt in the last ten days no longer mattered. He had made his choice, and she wasn't it.

Chugging the Sleeping Draught she fell into the wonderfully comforting bliss of sleep, clutching the apple to her chest.

...

Draco awoke to the pain. Someone had hit him with a Stinging Hex to get his attention. He didn't have to think about where he was, he didn't have to remember why he was here. It was the first thing he had thought of every time he had woken up for Merlin knew how long. He didn't know how many days had passed or even if it was just hours. The pain had become so familiar now that he didn't even bother to acknowledge it.

Another Stinging Hex.

"Hey! I'm talkin' to you, boy!"

Draco looked up into the beady eyes of Antonin Dolohov. The maniac grinned and Draco felt sick. The man was twisted and he knew to stay as far from him as possible.

"What the fuck do you want?" Draco croaked. His throat was raw from the yelling and screaming that had been ripped from him unwillingly through the torture the Dark Lord had seen fit to place upon him. He was angry that Draco had run, that he had hidden the remains of the Mudblood in cowardice when he was supposed to have used the body to taunt Potter.

Draco felt the bitter irony that for the first time in his life, he _hadn't_ run, and yet he was still being punished. It didn't matter now, not anymore. If this was the price he had to pay to keep Hermione safe, he would take it gladly. He would do anything…

"-you hear me? I said look at me when I'm talkin' to you! _Crucio!"_

Draco didn't even scream. He couldn't, his voice had broken long ago. The pain was excruciating, there was no doubt about that. Next to his father and the Dark Lord, Dolohov's curses were the worst. Well, that might not be true. His sweet Auntie Bella was pretty fucking mean. She'd been down a few times to "play" and that was where he'd received the broken ribs and most of the cuts on his body. She liked blood.

When the pain ended Draco looked up. The lanky man sneered, leering at him as if he were a piece of meat cooked just right and ready to be eaten.

"Our Master is ready to see you now."

Draco wanted to spit that the Dark Lord would _never_ be his Master but he knew better. This was his chance, his one chance to escape, to find Hermione and warn her…

The cell door creaked as Dolohov flung it open with a wave of his wand. He motioned for the others to step forward. These men Draco didn't know. It wasn't uncommon, new recruits crept into their folds every day and were sent on menial tasks such as fetching a boy from the dungeons so he could see his Master.

When the men lifted him, Draco did not resist. He gingerly put weight on his legs for the first time in he didn't know how long, using the men's firm grasps as support. His head spun and he teetered to the left, the men having to readjust to catch him. Dolohov slapped him for his "impertinence" and the four of them ambled up the stairs.

Draco knew where they were going. The Lair was located at the top of the manor in a secret room that one could only find if you knew where to look. Draco hadn't even known that room existed until the Dark Lord had come to stay with them.

He stumbled up the stairways and down the halls. The only place to Apparate was outside; much like Hogwarts, one cannot Apparate within the Malfoy Manor. This made things more difficult.

Draco had decided to make his escape after his "meeting" with the Dark Lord. If he survived it, that was. If he left before speaking with his "Master," however, Draco knew he would be asking for the Dark Lord himself to hunt him down, and that he would succeed.

Before he knew it he was being thrust into a room, the door shut tightly behind him. Draco fell instantly to his knees, the pain almost more than he could bear. Not a word had been uttered, not a move had been made, and yet the pain was excruciating. Draco wished for death over and over until the high pitched laugh made it all stop. He panted, lying prone on the floor, unable to move, unable to think beyond the pain.

"Well, well, well. We meet again, young Master Malfoy."

Draco said nothing but coughed blood onto the gleaming floor beneath him. He could hear the steps coming closer and then he was lifted off his feet and shoved against the wall. His head smacked the hard surface and stars danced before his eyes. The Dark Lord walked slowly towards him, his snake-like expression leering. Draco had to force himself not to cringe away when his terrifying face stopped right next to his, almost cheek to cheek. He could feel the Dark Lord's breath on his ear.

"Do you wish for death, Draco Malfoy?" he whispered. Draco did not answer and received a chilling blow to his stomach that made him retch onto the floor that the Dark Lord had just vacated. The sick laugh made him shiver. Draco was not afraid to die, he had seen his death so many times in his sleep he no longer feared it. In fact he used to welcome it, hope that each and every day that passed would finally be his last, but now things had changed. He couldn't die, not yet. He had to warn Hermione, tell her that he had screwed up. That he hadn't meant to, he hadn't understood the consequences until it was too late.

Draco was thrown back up against the wall to face the Dark Lord.

"I asked you a question. Do you wish…for _death?"_ The creature's voice was too high, too breathy, too terrifying to be human, and now Draco knew he was only half human, his snake carried the other half. This man was pure, fucking, evil.

"No."

"No? Is that what you said?"

"Yes."

The evil bastard drew the tip of his wand down the side of Draco's face.

"I believe you know something that you wish to share with your master. Is this true?"

"No."

Oh, gods, the torment. He yelled and yelled, he swore his body was being ripped apart, there was no way a man could survive this. But he had to, for Hermione.

The Dark Lord knelt by Draco's head. He couldn't see him for the red swimming across his vision.

"Do not lie to your master, Draco. It is impolite. I know _everything._ Do you understand that? You cannot deceive me, Draco."

"Then why are you even fucking asking me?" Draco yelled. He knew he shouldn't have but he couldn't stop himself. He waited for the torture to come and every agonizing moment when it didn't scared him more than he would ever reveal to anyone. He was terrified of this thing, this creature who called himself a man.

"Hermione Granger. Do you know this girl?"

"Yes."

"Let us not forget our manners, Draco."

"Yes, my lord."

"Yes, yes. And is she…dead?"

"Yes."

The pain came and yet the only thing he could feel was the anguish that they knew he was lying, they knew she was alive and he knew they would go after her. They would hunt her down and torture her in unimaginable ways until they got what they wanted from her. And then they would kill her and she would accept it gladly after the things they would do to her.

He wouldn't let it happen; he had to get to her first, so he had to survive this.

"I'm sorry! I'm sorry!" he wailed, hating himself for having to do this. _For Hermione._

The pain ceased and the Dark Lord spoke. "What are you sorry for?"

"For lying. I was scared. She beat me, I couldn't kill her. I tried! We fought in the dungeons and she left me for dead. I couldn't face you or my father that way. I was humiliated. I was beaten by a Mudblood, a filthy disgusting Mudblood! But I swear to you, my Lord that if you give me a second chance I will not fail you. She will meet her death. Please, give me another chance," Draco plead, locking eyes with the evil man so show his utmost sincerity. "She will die for what she did. I will not rest until her dirty blood is running between my fingers. Let me hunt her, please, I will not fail you again."

Astonishingly, the Dark Lord appeared to be considering Draco's words and he paced, worrying his wand between his hands absentmindedly. "And why should I trust this task to you again after your failure?"

Draco grasped at his final chance. "My father has reared me. He is a good servant; he has raised me to be such. I know I have failed you before in the past but I was merely a boy. These last two weeks have shown me that. But I _will_ be better for you, my lord. I know I am not deserving, but you will see, you will see what a good servant I will make. I will do anything, my lord. Anything for you. I have been insolent, weak. I will not be so again, this I swear to you. You deserve more from me and I will give it to you."

Draco stayed on the floor where he had fallen, his head bowing to the Dark Lord. He could feel the power radiating from him. Draco knew his fate was being decided. The Dark Lord was not forgiving. If he was forgiven a second time it would probably be the first ever heard of.

"You will kill the girl."

Draco could hardly believe his ears. "Yes, my Lord. I will kill her."

"You will bring her here to kill her. We could all use a little….party. You have two days to retrieve her."

"Yes, my lord, thank you, my lord."

The Dark Lord motioned for him to stand and it took all of his will to raise his tortured body from the floor. He moved towards the door.

"Oh and, Draco?"

He turned back to the serpentine man. "Yes, my lord?"

The sneer that crept across his features terrified Draco down to his very soul.

"You will not fail me again."

Before he could respond, Draco was thrust from the room with such force he broke boards in the wall of the hall behind him. Before the men flanking the doors could grab him, he was running. He knew the passages, knew every secret this house had to hold. The men had no chance. Draco tore through the mansion and to the front doors. As soon as his foot hit the outside ground he Apparated to the only place he knew, the only place he had left that was safe. There was only person who could help him now.

Severus Snape.

...

XOXO

RynStar15


	20. Chapter 20

Draco stumbled down Spinners End towards the creaky house he knew to be Snape's. Every centimeter of him hurt and his robes were sticky with congealed blood. The moon shone above and Draco wondered how many days had passed since he had first arrived. He wondered what had become of his mother, whether there was anything he could do to save her from the consequences of his actions.

His mother was the one who had told him that Snape was Draco's ally. She had told him that if he did not succeed in killing Dumbledore that Snape would do it for him, he would take that hideous deed from his hands, bear the impossible burden of murdering the most vital leader the side of the light had. She had pleaded with him to trust in Snape, to rely on him. Draco had resented the man for most of the year, believing that he wanted to steal his glory, wanted to make him look weak so that his family would fall even further from the Dark Lord's graces. But right before that horrid night that even now haunted him in his sleep, his ex-Professor had explained to him about Dumbledore, about how he was dying, how he had begged Snape to take his life in order to spare Draco's soul.

Even knowing about the old man's imminent demise when he'd been up on that tower, Draco hadn't been able kill him. He'd never really thought he'd be able to go through with the task, but knowing the old man had been working all year to help him, to try to get him to seek sanctuary with the Order even while knowing Draco was tasked to kill him had torn away every scrap of his will.

He remembered the look in Professor Dumbledore's eyes when he had begged Snape to end his life. He remembered the pain that had ripped through him as he'd watched the one man who had ever offered him hope fall to his death. He recalled the torment Snape had gone through in the days following, the way he had pleaded Draco's case to the Dark Lord so he would spare Draco and Narcissa's life, lied that Draco had been about to kill the old man when he had stolen his chance and done it first out of pure hate. He remembered how Snape had been tortured for his insolence, how it had taken him weeks to recover. He remembered how he had saved his life.

Draco tore open the rickety gate and limped towards the front door. He pounded on the old wood with his fist over and over and over. He heard footsteps inside drawing near but still he did not desist. The door swung wide to reveal a very angry looking Snape whose face fell the second he saw who was intruding on his doorstep. Without a word the oily man had him by the upper arm and was pulling him through the door and into a cramped sitting room. The walls were filled with books and he was shoved down onto an ancient chair. Snape put his hands on the arms of his seat and glared down at Draco through unkempt stands of black hair.

"Why are you here?" he snarled.

"I need your help," Draco replied.

Snape stood and paced the room much like his father had. His demeanor was altogether frightening to anyone who did not know him as Draco did. But he understood that it was just a well carved façade, so ingrained that he knew nothing but.

"Where have you been?"

Wishing he could have had some tea or soothing potion for his throat first, Draco went forth and told him everything about what had happened, excluding the depth of his and Hermione's relationship. He went on to tell him about his homecoming and Snape's head snapped up so fast when he admitted to telling his father about Nagini that Draco feared he might break it.

"You told Lucius of the Order's plans? _Idiot boy!_ Do you know what you have done?" Snape thundered.

"I didn't know!" Draco defended. "If I had know Nagini was a Horcrux I never would have said anything! I would _never_ have put Hermione in danger!"

Snape leered at him in a way that made him wholly uncomfortable. "You have been referring to Miss Granger by her given name and your sudden concern for her welfare is quite suspicious. Is there more to your relationship than you are letting on?"

 _Fuck!_ Why did the son-of-a-bitch always know what Draco didn't tell him?

"No," Draco said lamely.

"This lying streak must end now! I will not assist you if you continue to keep secrets. I need to know everything, Draco. You have no idea the damage your actions have caused! Now tell me, _did something happen between you and Miss Granger?"_

The silence in the room was deafening, the accusation a knife to his chest. But he needed Snape on his side and the man had always been able to see right through him.

"Yes," he finally muttered.

"Explain."

Draco didn't know what to say. What would Snape think of him? Would he see him as naïve, a hormonal fool? Would he see him as taking advantage of Hermione? Would he understand, or chalk it up to them being young and senseless?

"Things...happened…" he offered self-consciously.

"I need to know everything, Draco!"

Unwilling to divulge the depth of his and Hermione's relationship, Draco snapped. "Why is it so important? What happened between Hermione and I is no one else's business! It has nothing to do with the situation!"

"It has _everything_ to do with the situation!" Snape screamed, resuming his position with his hands on either side of Draco's chair. Draco had never seen him this wild, this frantic. He was finally beginning to grasp the depth of his unknowing betrayal. The destruction of the Horcrux must have been a long-going effort, something he'd not only prevented from happening in the dungeon that day, but had now possibly ruined any chance for the Order's success.

Snape held his eyes, searching them for the answers he sought. "I have to know if you are willing to do what needs to be done."

Draco began to turn cold at his tone and gaze. "What do you mean?"

Snape continued to look at him, his face too close. "What you have done has compromised the entire mission. The only way to kill Voldemort is to destroy the six Horcrux's he made."

 _"Six?"_ Draco interjected. His stomach twisted in disgust. Six parts of the bastard's soul. He'd thought things were hopeless enough with the creation of just one Horcrux, but if there were six...the evil bastard had all but won already.

"Do not interrupt! This is crucial! Yes, six! We have destroyed five, three of those were only possible due to Miss Granger's assistance. The sixth one resides in Nagini, which we must destroy before we can kill Dark Lord himself. Now that they know we are aware of the Horcruxes they will find out that the other five are missing and we will lose our advantage! Nagini will be placed under constant supervision."

"I had no idea, you know I wouldn't have-"

"I would have thought you would be smart enough to come to _me_ with this information instead of running your foolish mouth to one of the Dark Lord's closest advisors!"

"If you had told me-"

"The less you knew, the safer you were. It seems I was correct in not divulging such information to you."

Draco fumed at this. If he'd know how important the information was he would never...would he?

"We will need to create a diversion," Snape continued, returning to his pacing. "We have to be able to get to that snake."

"What kind of a diversion?"

"One large enough to keep the Dark Lord's attention from the protection of his last Horcrux. We will have to give him the one thing he has been seeking for months now."

Draco knew immediately what Snape was considering.

"No," Draco growled dangerously. "If you so much as touch a single hair on her head-"

Suddenly Draco's thoughts were streaming across his vision, the unexpected intrusion giving him no time to protect his wide-open mind. He saw images of him and Hermione: the fighting that changed to bantering that transformed into mind-numbing embraces in the forest. He saw them making love on the bed for the first time, how he had tenderly cared for her in the forest as she'd writhed with fever. He saw himself dragging Hermione out of the river and his own tears falling onto her seemingly lifeless face. He saw himself carrying Hermione through the woods, his hysterical breakdown by the burning cottage. Their last heart-wrenching day they'd spent in each other's arms. He could hear his own torrid thoughts about how much he loved her and the pain it caused him to push her away.

When Snape withdrew he walked away leaving Draco exhausted and fuming in his seat. It was his own fault for not closing his mind but it felt like an intrusion to his most secret memories between him and Hermione, things that no one was supposed to know.

Snape was quiet for a long time, staring out the dirty window onto the street below.

"Does anyone know you're here?"

"No, sir."

"Keep it that way. You will need to report back to the Dark Lord tomorrow and tell him that your search for Miss Granger is progressing, make him think you are still working on procuring her. See if he will grant you more time. If not, we must work quickly. Two days is not nearly adequate to plan a war. If we fail this time there may not be a third. We need to draw the snake away from the Dark Lord somehow. It will require leverage, something of the kind Miss Granger can supply."

"NO!" Draco roared, shooting to his feet. "I'll not let you touch her! I came to you to save her, not to help you send her to her death!"

Snape rounded on him. "Control yourself, Draco! You allow your emotions to cloud your judgement, it is a weakness we cannot afford! The girl is the best chance we have to divert the Dark Lord's attention!"

"There has to be another way, give him Potter, isn't that who he really wants?" Draco raged hysterically.

"You fool! If we sent Potter into the Dark Lord's presence without destroying the Horcrux we would lose! Potter must be the one to kill the Dark Lord, as you very well know! We cannot risk his life. Miss Granger will be the strongest pawn, she is the only one he desires aside from Potter."

Draco shook his head, betrayal boiling in his veins. He'd come to his mentor for help and here he was trying to endanger the one person Draco was trying to save. "There has to be another way."

"There _is_ no other way! We must use the strongest weapons at our disposal, we have one chance at this!"

"No, you can't-"

"Listen to me, Draco," Snape said, his voice a modicum calmer. "We will need all the help we can get in this. You have been given a task which makes you a perfectly placed agent in this endeavor. With your assistance, we may be able to succeed. But if I cannot trust you to do your part when the time comes, I will put you in a drugged sleep until it is over."

"You can't do that!" Draco yelled, advancing on the overgrown bat.

"I assure you I can!" Snape strode over to him menacingly, meeting him in a deadly confrontation. "This is not a game, Draco! This is bigger than yours and Miss Granger's little love affair. She would be sorely missed, but if she is the sacrifice necessary to end this once and for all, then we must be willing to make it."

"She's not some goddamn pawn you can just throw into the line of fire!"

"If it means the defeat of the Dark Lord, then yes, Draco, she is!" Snape thundered. _"The Dark Lord must not triumph!_ If we cannot kill the snake he will succeed, do you understand that, Draco? If given time he will create more Horcruxes, he will build stronger guards around them. He will be indestructible. This is the last chance we have, we must strike _now."_

Draco was speechless. He knew what Snape said was true, knew he alone was the reason this was all happening in the first place. Shame as he'd never felt began to grip him with its icy fingers. He deserved the pain of losing Hermione, deserved to live an eternity with that agony. But she was innocent, she had never done anything to deserve the fate the Dark Lord would surely bring upon her once he found out about her hand in his destruction.

Snape lowered his voice, obviously straining for composure at the darkness that had crept over Draco. "We need a way to get the Dark Lord away from the snake long enough to destroy it. To do so, he will need a reason important enough to be away from it. Torturing Miss Granger for finding his Horcruxes could give us the time to kill the snake and those guarding it. It is a necessary sacrifice. I know that no one will wish to see her harmed, myself included, but they will see reason as I do and you must. The situation is bleak; you have not left us much time. It may not even work, but we have to try. Do you understand?"

Draco didn't answer. This was all his fault. Because he couldn't keep his fucking mouth shut they were going to toss the love of his life at the Dark Lord and say, "Here, have her!" so they could try to find the snake and kill it. What if they didn't find the snake in time and Hermione died in vain? He would never live with himself. He had to find another way, there had to be one...

 _"Do you understand?"_

After several long moments, Draco swallowed and answered in a hardened, hollow voice. "Yes."

Snape eyed him, his mouth pinched with doubt. "If I think for one instant that you might sabotage this mission, I will put you down."

Draco nodded. He could see the hardness in Snape's features, knew he didn't make this decision lightly.

"Can I trust you to follow through in your task to deliver Miss Granger to the Dark Lord?"

Draco's throat grew tight, the words difficut to get out as his they clung to his throat in protest.

"Yes."

"And can I trust you to not interfere once she is taken by the Dark Lord?"

His eyes shut against the agony of what Snape asked of him. Begging Hermione for forgiveness, Draco said the one word which ruptured his heart irreparably.

"Yes."

Snape watched him for a moment, reading his emotions. Finally, he nodded. "Good. Now, let's get you cleaned up and we'll get to work."

Draco allowed the spray of the shower to soothe his aching muscles. Snape had done wonders on his injuries, but the achy, stiff muscles would have to heal a little slower on their own, aided by a potion he would take again when he went to sleep. He watched in disgust as the dirt and filth from the dungeons swirled around the drain before finally sinking down into it. He lathered his body a second time with the soap Snape had set out for him, scrubbing away the memories of his torture, pretending he could wash away the knowledge of what he must do in order to assist in the downfall of the Dark Lord as well.

He knew the most sensible option was to use something the Dark Lord really wanted, a.k.a Hermione, to ease his attention away from the precious snake and maybe give them the chance to take the damn thing out. That would then leave the Dark Lord vulnerable for Potter to deal with. He knew Hermione would see this as well and willingly give her life in the hopes of gaining the advantage they needed. She would do whatever she could to help Potter succeed and Draco's gut clenched with juvenile jealousy.

Would she have done the same for him, if it was his life on the line instead of Potter's? Would anyone? He doubted it. He'd never done a damn thing to deserve anyone's respect or affection. He was a selfish coward, a murdering, arrogant, self-serving bastard.

He was sickened by his own pity and scolded himself knowing that it was his own damn fault. He had been a prick his entire life, treating everyone like shit and pretending that his own didn't stink. He had always walked around with an air of smugness, he had known he was better than them all because of his goddamn name, and they had damn well better treat him that way.

When Potter had refused his hand in friendship that first train ride to Hogwarts he had been enraged. How dare he say no to _him,_ the Malfoy heir! Draco had never been turned down before for anything and everyone had always wanted to be in his circle. From that day on he had sworn he would make Potter pay, his friends along with him.

It didn't hurt that the bushy haired Mudblood he'd teamed up with had annoyed him to no end: always knowing everything, forever beating everybody in the classroom, and worst of all, befriending the one person he had sworn to hate. As the years drew on, his hatred was fueled by jealousy. Potter always had the attention. Everyone loved poor, _perfect_ Potter and, oh, how Draco had loathed it.

Now, Draco scoffed at his ignorance. Knowing what he did now about what Potter had been tasked, he pitied the fucker. He knew what Potter was up against, knew the chances of his survival were slim to none. What did that average, bleeding-heart teenager have against the greatest dark wizard of all time?

It didn't help that a small part of him was angry at Potter for dragging Hermione down with him. He hated that she would do anything for him, that he and Weasley were closer than he would ever be with her, than he would ever be with anyone in his whole life. There was only one person he could really consider a friend on an intellectual and likeable level and that was Zabini and he hadn't talked to him in weeks, had barely seen him since his fall from grace at the end of their sixth year. What a friend.

Draco sighed and leaned his hands against the wall in front of him, his head down, water cascading down his muscular back. When had he become such an emotional prat? Where had that cold, emotionless drone disappeared to? What had happened to the days where life had been so simple? He didn't give a shit about anyone and no one gave a shit about him. That was the way he liked it, or at least _had_ liked it.

Now he was in love with a Muggle-born know-it-all whom he used to despise, pitied the man he used to hate, and was trying to help the people he used to taunt and torture. Not to mention he was essentially turning his back on his entire family, the family he had worked so hard to save. What in the hell had happened to Draco Malfoy in the ten days he'd spent in the throes of time travel gone wrong?

As ever when he was in doubt anymore, Milo's voice rang in his head:

 _"Keep Hermione safe, she is vital in this war, more-so than she'll even imagine."_

And hadn't that infuriating man been right about everything? About Hermione and his unknown connection, about the danger of the Trackers, his insistence that they had been brought there for a reason?

Draco could see that reason now. He'd needed what he and Hermione had fought through in order to become the man he was now. If he'd never broken that damn chain around Hermione's neck he'd still be lost within himself, his true self buried so far beneath hurt and anger and resentment that he would never have been able to pull it out by himself. He'd needed Hermione to do it for him, to reach inside him and find that person he had lost so long ago, to drag it back out to the surface, to shatter that seemingly impenetrable wall he'd build around himself. He'd needed her love, her strength, her courage. It was the person within he'd found on that arduous journey that had the strength to do what he needed to do now.

But the cost of his strength might very well be his demise.

He would figure out a way, _had_ to figure out a way to save them all, to take down the Dark Lord without sacrificing Hermione in the process. It was up to him now. He had fucked up and now, as he had when he'd trudged a sickly Hermione through the forest, facing down dozens of Trackers on his own to save her, he would reach inside himself and find that ability to take charge of the situation.

First thing was to find Hermione, warn her, hide her, do anything he could to keep her from risking her own life for others. He would give his own if he had to, make the Dark Lord fight him instead, anything, _anything_ to keep her safe.

He scoffed at the improbability of this endeavor. How the hell was he supposed to keep a stubbornly loyal person such as Hermione from doing something as heroic as sacrificing herself for the greater good? She was Gryffindor to the bone, as selfless as they came.

He would have to think of a ruse, a way to make her realize that she was needed more in the future when their world would be in tatters after the destruction of the war than giving her life on the battle field. His mind whirled over a thousand feeble excuses; her experienced healing was needed, her knowledge was more useful alive than dead, people would mourn her, he couldn't live in a world that she wasn't in...

After each and every thought he could hear her soothing voice in his mind with solutions to them; there were plenty of Healers not going to war, books would always be there in lieu of her, people couldn't mourn her if they weren't alive, he would find another... He had to think of something better, something that could actually convince her selfless heart into staying hidden.

But what could he possibly say to make her think she was needed so badly away from the battle? What could be more important to her than saving mankind? The lives of others were far more precious to her than her own, so what could possibly-

 _Oh. Sweet. Merlin._

Draco shot ramrod straight and stumbled back as it hit him.

He knew the one thing that could keep her from her sacrifice was if she knew she would be sacrificing more than just herself.

And what scared the ever-living-hell out of him was that it could very possibly be true.

She could be pregnant. He hadn't used a Contraceptive Charm. He hadn't even thought about it. He'd been so wrapped up in her, in his need, so drugged by the thought of having her, that he'd forgotten. His heart clenched painfully. How could he be so careless?

Even though he knew that it was a perfect excuse to keep her safe, she would never endanger the life of her own innocent child, it scared him more than anything at the possibility of it being true.

What were the chances? He had no knowledge of these kinds of things. His father had taught him the charm when he was fourteen after a lengthy conversation about the danger of illegitimates and he had used it ever since. He had never needed to know about "what if."

He felt weak, sick. What were the chances? Did it happen every time someone didn't use the charm? Did it happen randomly? Could they be sure so soon? A million questions whirled in his head until he felt dizzy, the world tilting dangerously around him.

He waved off the water and groped around outside the shower for a towel he knew his ex-Professor had placed there on the sink for him. The towel was thin and raggedy; smelling of old socks, much like its owner. Draco dried off and went about his usual routine, his mind clouded with worry. How could he not have thought about this? Yes, alright, they had been a bit preoccupied at the time what with Trackers and time turning and running for their lives, but still…even drunk on Firewhiskey he had always remembered to use a Contraceptive Charm. How could have been be so foolish?

Draco dragged on the clothes Snape had magicked clean for him in a daze. He fumbled his way down the hall towards the drawing room where he knew Snape would be waiting for him so they could discuss their plan of attack, his mind whirling.

He could deal with this, it would be alright. No matter what the outcome they could both handle it. He knew there were ways to…dispose of such situations, but he knew she would never go for it. Hell, he didn't even think _he_ could go for it, not knowing it was theirs, his and Hermione's child.

It calmed him significantly that even if she _wasn't_ pregnant, if there was no way to tell yet (and he prayed to Merlin that was the case) the possibility would keep Hermione from risking the life of their unborn child and he highly doubted anyone in the Order would fight it. This was a good thing, he reminded himself. No matter what the outcome, Hermione would be safe.

This thought steadied him and when Snape looked up at his entrance, he was ready to work.

...

Hermione rolled over. She couldn't sleep. It had been four days since she had returned and she felt frustrated. They hadn't figured out another way to get to the snake. It was heavily guarded at all times unless Voldemort was engaged in battle and they couldn't chance another one without assurance. The only problem was that now that they'd broken into the Manor successfully, the guard around it had changed, multiplied. Try as they might, they were unable to penetrate the walls. They were all on edge, nervous.

And the worst part about it all was that she hadn't heard a word about Draco's return. Nothing. Their one contact into Voldemort's ranks had been silent. He only reached out to them with information, they were banned from contacting him as the risk of him being found out was too great. It was as if Draco hadn't even returned, and Hermione began to worry that he hadn't.

If he hadn't gone back to his family, where had he gone? Had he run away? Gone into hiding? Her head whirled with possibilities until it pounded as it so often did now, a migraine always lingering on the sidelines.

Hermione sat up with a heavy sigh and leaned against the headboard of her bed gazing at a sleeping Ginny. She looked so peaceful. She remembered what Ron had said about her crying every day she'd been gone. Hermione couldn't imagine how she would feel if she had thought Ginny had died. Ginny was like the little sister she'd never had, the companion who was always just a little bolder, a little braver than herself. Her flaming red hair fanned across the pale yellow of her pillowcase creating a delightful contrast to her freckled face.

Hermione knew she would never be as pretty as her, or as dreamily handsome as Luna, or as gorgeous as Lavender, or as daintily beautiful as the Patil sisters. She knew she was plain, Plain Jane Granger. She would always be boring, a wallflower whom no one noticed. Or at least she _had_ been, until Draco Malfoy had seen her. Until he had made her feel made her feel beautiful, irresistible.

She remembered the way he had murmured those very same words to her while they'd made love on a straw mattress at a dingy inn, while they'd gripped each other in ecstasy on a soft bed in Alvida's cottage. She remembered the way he had worshiped her body, memorizing every inch of her and reveling in it. She had felt beautiful then, not pretty or plain, but for the first time in her life, _beautiful._

Her heart ached in pain as she thought about his parting words, the way he had so casually called her "Mudblood." Had she really been that blind, had her desperate need for attention twisted reality so vastly? Was he really that good of an actor? Was _anyone?_

Well, if anyone was going to be it would be Draco Malfoy: son of a Death Eater and sworn enemy of her friends and her cause. She shouldn't care about him, shouldn't care that he didn't want her or that he'd used her. Hadn't he tried to push her away in the beginning? Hadn't she continued to throw herself at him like a common whore? What desperately horny young man could resist such an offer? She had no one but herself to blame. He'd never cared about her, he'd used her, and she hated him for it.

Then why had she cried every single day since she had returned? Why was her heart aching as if it would never be repaired?

She didn't need him. She had her friends, her wizarding family, people who loved her, who had mourned her disappearance. She was too busy dealing with attempting to take down the evilest man to walk the face of the earth to worry about such trifles as a sordid love affair. She didn't have time to deal with a boy who had used her and then tossed her out like an old rag.

Then why did she cry?

Wiping the tears from her eyes she hadn't even realized were there, Hermione rolled out of bed and snuck up to Sirius's old room which Harry had taken residence in. She slipped into the room and under the thin sheet draped over his casually sleeping form. He reached for her unconsciously and drew her into his arms without waking. This wasn't the first time she had done this. For the past year or more she had slipped into his bed and they would hold each other when the other was hurting. They never spoke and never talked about it later. They simply took comfort from a good friend when they needed it and left it at that.

Hermione closed her eyes and cuddled into his bare chest closer, listening to his steady heart beat. Strong hands clenched her tighter and finally the fingers of sleep took hold and drew her into the sweet, dark abyss.

...

XOXO

RynStar15


	21. Chapter 21

Draco woke with a start, a loud noise stirring him from his deep slumber.

"Get up. We don't have much time," Snape snapped at him harshly.

Draco groaned. Gods, he was tired. He grabbed the thin pillow underneath his head and shoved it over his exposed ear, blocking out the noise of the older man who was talking about something or other. He couldn't rouse up the energy to care. He felt himself drifting back to sleep…

 _Bam!_

Draco felt himself flying across the room and into a bookshelf whose contents promptly deluged themselves upon his head. Cursing loudly he Levitated them all from him and threw up a protective barrier until he was sure they had desisted. He glared up at his ex-Professor.

"What the fuck was that for?"

"Watch your tongue! Where is your wand, boy?"

"I assume my father confiscated it when he took me prisoner," Draco replied, rubbing a sore spot on his head where a book had hit him before he'd been able to put up the shield.

Snape swiftly strode across the room and lifted Draco straight off the floor by the front of his robes. "You just did wandless magic. I have never seen you use it before. Where did you learn it? Lucius?"

Draco realized he didn't even think about his wand anymore, so used to using his hands now. "No. Sari and Milo, they taught us, me and Her-Granger. Wands weren't permitted back then-"

"Yes, the Proclamation of Gwendolleyn. Of course, I had forgotten," Snape murmured thoughtfully. Draco yanked his robes from the older man's grasp but Snape stayed directly in front of him, far too close for comfort but Draco was used to this. The old bat had never seemed to know of or care about personal boundaries.

"So both you and Miss Granger are proficient?"

"Well, I suppose, yeah. Hermione is better at it than me, of course-"

"You are to refer to her only as Granger or Miss Granger!" Snape growled, still deep in thought.

Draco nodded, curbing his desire to yell back. Snape was right. If he was caught referring to Hermione by her given name in front of the wrong people they would both be in even more danger than they were now. He could not make that mistake again.

Finally Snape stepped back, taking to pace the small, dank room. "We can use this. Does anyone else know?"

"Not that I'm aware of, sir," he replied. "I tried to use it in the dungeons but was shackled before I could hit anyone with anything."

Snape nodded again and strode from the room, beckoning him to follow. Draco did so reluctantly, rubbing the back of his head and looking longingly at the still warm bed. He marched down to the kitchen and ate the breakfast Snape had prepared for him without complaint. The food was bland at best but he was starving and his hands shook with lack of nourishment as he shoveled the fork to his mouth as fast as he could. The plate was refilled twice more until he was full and Snape made the remnants vanish with a wave of his hand before speaking.

"We need to go over the plan."

Draco nodded, sitting back and downing the Strength Replenishing potion he was handed. Instantly, he felt his normal energy thrum through his system, all remnants of his time in the dungeons gone. "What did you have in mind?"

"You need to go back to the Manor, check in. I went last night and they were on the lookout for you. They think you've run again."

"I have."

 _"But they mustn't know!_ You will go to the Dark Lord immediately. Speak to no one, not even your father. Tell him you are having trouble locating Miss Granger without your wand, see if he will allow you to have it back and give you more time. We cannot count on this but we have to try. If he declines, tell him you will not fail, reassure him. Whatever you do, _do not lose your temper._ Everything rests on this, Draco. You are a traitor now, you are in more danger than ever. If _anyone_ suspects you, you will be dead before you can raise your hand to defend yourself."

For the first time, the implications of what he was doing began to dawn on him. He'd crossed sides without even realizing it. It had happened so naturally, so seamlessly it was as if he'd made the decision in his mind long ago. Was this what he had always wanted but never known?

What _did_ he want?

He wanted Hermione. He wanted a life without fear, without the stain of his father's name marring his future. He didn't want to live the way he had been living: in loathing, in anger and hate. He wanted to be free of the tyranny of a Dark Lord who would torture you at the slightest mistake. He wanted a world where Hermione was safe, a world where they could be together without prejudice.

Well, hell.

It was seeming as though Draco Malfoy had a goddamn heart after all.

Realizing Snape was waiting for him to answer he cleared his throat.

"I understand," Draco replied nodding. He was accepting it, accepting the choice of helping the Order, of helping them bring down the sick and twisted man under whom he had sworn to serve. He was breaking the yoke his father had wrapped around his neck, dragging him down into the depths of a devious future full of sorrow and anguish. He had chosen.

Snape seemed to understand the severity of his decision and the inner conflict he was going through. His next words gentle.

"I have spoken to your mother. She knows you have defected. She will stand by your father for your protection and has placed you in my care. She has asked you not to seek her out, not to try to change her mind. She's left you a note."

He handed Draco a scroll of parchment sealed with the Malfoy crest. Draco slit it open and stared, for a moment unseeingly, at the beautifully scrawled words:

 _My dearest son,_

 _I hope someday you may find it in your heart to forgive me for the pain I have caused you. I did not intend this to be your burden, I did not wish for any this to go so far. If I had known- well, it is neither here nor there. This is the way it must be now. I have chosen my path as you have chosen yours._

 _I have secured your inheritance in a secret Gringotts vault, your new godfather, Severus, has the key. It should be enough to help you start out a new life, away from all this treachery and deceit and hate. I know this can in no way atone for the horror of the life I have allowed you to be dragged into, but it is the last thing I can do for you._

 _Know that I love you, my precious son. I am so proud of the strong man you have become. You cannot know the joy I felt when Severus told me of your decision. You will be safe with him. The Order will hide you, they will help you. I will stay my course so as not to bring unwanted attention upon you._

 _Find your own path, Draco. You were always meant for so much more than this life and it is time you found that within yourself. Be happy, be free. Do not worry about me. I made my choices many years ago and now I must suffer the fate that is dealt to me. I will no longer stand aside and see your name smudged with the evils of our past. You are better than that, than either of us._

 _After you finish reading this letter it will henceforth be destroyed. Do not seek me out after this day._

 _I am so proud of you my son, my one true love. I hope we shall meet again when this world can no longer torture us with memories of fear. When that time comes, I will find you._

 _I will love you forever,_

 _Mum_

Draco's hand shook as the letter burst into flame. He felt empty as the ash fell to the table, as if he had lost something special and sacred. But he did not need the parchment, he remembered every single word, and it only strengthened his resolve that for the first time in his life, he was doing the right thing.

Snape's soft voice broke his reverie. "When you have finished with the Dark Lord, come straight back here. Wait for me. Do not leave under any circumstance. Do you understand me?"

Draco nodded. "Yes."

"Very well. Then off with you. I will not be here when you return."

Again Draco felt his head rise and fall of its own accord. His hands pushed against the rough surface of the table and his legs held the weight that was placed upon them. His knees bent and carried him to the front door and out into the dull, grey day, though he was not conscious of any of this.

Draco lifted his face to the morose drizzle and closed his eyes against the headache forming behind them. He felt a great change come over him, one he'd been working towards since the day Hermione had lifted a sword to rescue him. For the first time in his life, he felt whole. _This_ was what Milo had been referring to. His actions before that day were no longer of consequence. It was time he forged his own path, one that aligned with his heart.

In the midst of all these startling revelations, talking with his "Master" was the last thing he wanted to do. But he owed it to the Order, to Hermione, to do what he could to help fix his mistakes.

So with a heart-weary sigh, he turned on his heel and Apparated back to the Manor.

...

Hermione was in the library rubbing her tired eyes against the strain of trying to read the tiny, scribbled text an old wizard had seen fit to put in the ancient manuscript on her lap. This scroll was one of many that had been discovered hundreds of years ago in the Tome of Augustus, a powerful wizard who was buried with his scribes and the scrolls he had forced his lackeys to produce. The Wizard Augustus was a pure genius, but he was also something of a prick in Hermione's opinion. He was not, by any means, a modest man. In many of his writings (which he did not write himself, she might add) he talked of his superiority over his peers and that the gods had given him a divine right and responsibility to share his knowledge with others less fortunate. Hermione didn't feel so fortunate as she skimmed through one such writing hoping to stumble across something, anything…

Five days. She sighed. She knew it was hardly any time at all compared to the last year and a half they'd spent searching down the last three Horcruxes, but with everything that was at stake it felt like an eternity. The days dragged like months. Her heart ached along with her muscles and her slowly healing leg which she could still feel twinges of pain from when she walked. Every time she thought about that searing, burning pain, her skin boiling, her muscles melting, she shivered. She was lucky to have escaped out of that house alive at all, not to mention without gathering attention.

Hermione had sent Hedwig for a copy of Turning Time through the Years by Hilanda Hemsworth and The Chronology of Movement Through the Generations by Franrukus Demplar to make sure nothing had changed. She had to make sure Alvida had made it. If not…well, there may very well not be any time travel in their current present. What if she and Draco had-

 _Draco._

The name rolled through her mind like a spindle. Draco.

She remembered how it felt to have his name fall through her lips as he had moved inside her. Even now she could feel her nether-regions growing wet while she closed her eyes and recalled the feel of him stretching her, filling her as his hips rocked against hers and his muscular arms held her to his rock hard chest. She could nearly feel his soft lips and his hot breath on her neck as he kissed, licked and nibbled the sensitive flesh while words of endearment fell smoothly from his manipulative mouth.

What she wouldn't give to have him in her arms right at that very moment, to tell him with all certainty that she loved him and she would do anything to keep him safe and with her, even after his hateful words at their departure. She knew if they could just defeat Voldemort then the gap dividing them would vanish and she would be free to express how she felt, no matter who she might anger in the process. She didn't care anymore what her friends and family thought, what society might say. If they couldn't understand, then they didn't really care for her to begin with.

Hermione looked up when she heard the door click open. Ron sauntered in and sat in the chair next to her at the little table she had piled with scrolls and books and parchments with her own notes and a couple of battered quills lost amongst the fray. There should have been an ink bottle somewhere but she couldn't place it now.

Ron stared at her as if expecting her to say something. He'd been like this the past couple of days, distant and yet trying to be alone with her at every possible moment. At first she had thought it was kind of charming that he had missed her so much, but now it was starting to wear on her.

"Is there something you needed, Ronald?" she asked sweetly. Her dour mood had put everyone on edge around her and she struggled to return to her normal, caring nature. He shook his head and reached out one long-fingered hand and enveloped her own which had been lying on the table between them. He seemed to struggle with the words in his head.

"Hermione…you've seemed…well...you know…a bit, erm, _off."_

She waited for him to add to his proclamation but he didn't, so she probed him further.

"In what way?"

He shifted nervously and toyed with her fingers, his warm, slightly sweaty clasp making her want to cringe. Why was she suddenly abhorrent of Ron? It's not like _he_ had changed any. He was still the sweet, shy, goofy boy she had loved since her first year. Last year her heart had fluttered when he had been around but now…now, everything had changed, _she_ had changed.

They had started once towards a relationship but it had flickered out eventually, never really crossing the threshold between friend and lover, and for that she was thankful. After Draco she couldn't think of being with anyone else, especially her bumbling, tousle-haired friend. She still loved him and her heart ached when he gave her that look that told her how much he had missed her and what it had done to him, but she would never feel more for him than friendship, strong, true, lasting friendship, though she worried he had more in mind now.

"In what way, Ron?" she repeated when his silence dragged on.

"You're, well, distant. You know?" His deep blue eyes pleaded with her to understand what he was saying so he didn't have to continue.

"Yes, I know. I'm sorry. I'm trying, I really am."

"You don't have to apologize, we all know how much you went through. It's just that… Did something… _happen_ …while you were gone?"

"A lot of things happened, Ron." She was way too tired to have this conversation right now, why couldn't everyone understand that she just wanted to be left alone?

"I know, I know…it's just that…well…it seems like…more than..."

"More than _what?_ Ron, I am really very busy, can you just get to the point?" she sighed, trying not to sound cross, though she knew she was failing miserably.

Ron looked down to their still connected hands. "Hermione, did something happen…what I mean is…did Malfoy do something to you?"

Her heart stammered in her chest and fear gripped her. What in the world had made him say something like _that?_ How could he possibly have any indication that there was so much more to her journey than she'd let on? There was no way, no _possible_ way he could know. She'd been so careful not to say anything, not to mention even the slightest thing that might make them wonder…

She focused on keeping her strangled voice level and calm. "What do you mean?"

He looked uncomfortable, a blush beginning to creep up his neck.

"Ron, _what do you mean?"_

"Did he…try to…you know…take advantage of you?" Ron's poor pale, speckled cheeks flamed fiery red to clash with his copper hair, perfectly matching the red Hermione was now seeing.

"Take _advantage_ of me? Ronald, where would you ever get an idea like that?"

"Well, it's just…you know…two people alone for so long…and you're so pretty and smart and everything," he blushed even harder if it was possible. "I just thought, maybe the reason you didn't want to talk about him much when you told us all your story was because he might have…well…and I'll _kill_ him if he did, I swear, Hermione, if he touched one hair on your head-"

"Ron, nothing happened," Hermione soothed in an attempt to calm the raging temper that was making its way to the surface of Ron's exterior as she battled back her own. She knew his temper could get fierce and she knew if he thought Draco had raped her he would go ballistic. It enraged her that he would consider Draco _raping_ her instead of concluding the love they had made together, the tender way he had taken her, the rapture he had brought her with his hands and mouth and-

"You're sure?"

Hermione shook her head, realizing she was once again drifting off to thoughts of what she and Draco had shared. Maybe she'd been a little more obvious that she'd realized. "Of course I'm sure! He didn't do anything distasteful."

Ron nodded as if he didn't believe her. She supposed there was no reason he should and guilt assailed her for lying to her best friend.

"Come on, cheer up," she said in a light-hearted voice, tamping down her emotions in an attempt to sooth her friend. "I'm home now. No need to be so gloomy."

He smiled, his eyes brightening as he finally turned to her. "You're right. You're absolutely right, Hermione. This should be a time for celebration."

And then he kissed her.

Hermione was so shocked that for a moment she was stunned motionless, just as she had been when Draco had first kissed her. When she had her wits about her again she leaned back, her expression one of bewilderment and his face fell immediately.

"Ron-"

"No, no I- that was stupid," he stammered, his face now an ugly shade of mauve in his embarrassment. "I'm sorry I should have never-"

"No, it's okay, it's just- I was shocked, I didn't expect-"

"I know, it was a dumb move, I'm sorry, I should-" he stumbled to his feet, upsetting his chair in the process, and backed up a couple of steps pointing towards the library door.

"No, Ron, you don't have to-"

"It's alright, I just, that was dumb, I'm sorry, I didn't mean to-" His back hit the door and he fumbled for the handle and just as he went to pull it open the door swung in and smashed into Ron with a loud crunching noise and a yowl of pain. Hermione rushed forward with a gasp as Remus recoiled in surprise. Ron clutched his nose and wrenched away from Hermione as she attempted to see the damage, blood deluging down his front. Remus apologized profusely and finally extracted Ron's hands from his face so he could find the source of the blood that gushed from the middle of Ron's still-blushing face.

"Here, I'll fix it-" Remus said, brandishing his wand.

"No! No, it's fine, just leave it! I should go, er- I'll go," he stuttered thickly and raced out of the room, blood still pouring down his front.

Hermione slumped against the wall and smacked the back of her head against it several times. Merlin, what was wrong with her? Here she was trying to mend fences and now she'd probably scarred the poor boy for good. She hadn't meant to make him feel so ashamed, she just hadn't known what to say. She groaned in despair. Damn Draco for ruining everything! Why did he have to go and make her fall in love with him? She should have been _thrilled_ that Ron had finally made a move! Now she just found it abhorrent.

She knew she'd probably done irreparable damage to her and Ron's relationship with how embarrassed he would be after this whole incident, especially after his disastrous exit…

"Er-Hermione?" Having forgotten that anyone was there, Hermione opened her eyes and looked up at her mentor.

"Is, er, everything alright?"

She snorted. "Is _anything_ alright anymore?"

He seemed at a loss for words and she waved her melancholy away. "Is there something you needed?"

The older man cleared his throat. "Actually, there is. Hermione…there's something we need to discuss. Will you come with me to the kitchen, please?"

"Yes, of course," she replied, thankful for a distraction, and followed the man down the stairs. He said nothing and seemed tense, which wasn't altogether unusual for him, but she felt a strange ambiance from him, like he was hesitant to have this conversation. This made her apprehensive. Did they suspect something between her and Draco as well?

Deciding it was best she didn't question, Hermione followed Remus into the kitchen where she found Tonks, Arthur, Molly, Bill, Kingsley, Moody, and Snape settled around the table, mixed expressions of apprehension to downright anger seething from Molly, stared up at her.

But the most unsettling part of all of it was the presence of her former Potions master. Any time he arrived only brought worse news and the fact that it had taken him so long since her and Draco's arrival to come to them was foreboding.

Fear clenched in her heart and she was rooted to the spot, looking around for her best friend. "What is all this about? Where is Harry?"

"We'll have a discussion with him shortly. For now, we need to speak with you privately. Will you please have a seat?" Remus said with a comforting squeeze of her shoulder. Arthur gestured her to a chair next to him and she sat, wholly unsettled by her pseudo-father's protective posture as he sat facing halfway turned towards her, his hand resting on the back of her chair.

Snape stared at her from directly across the table as if assessing her and she remembered all the Occlumency lessons Harry had received from him in their fifth year. She suddenly wished had been at the receiving end of the lessons as she had no idea how to protect her mind from being invaded other than the steps she'd researched as Harry had struggled with the concept. The only way she knew how to protect her thoughts was to clear her mind and keep them as blank and bland as possible.

"Molly, your son and I had a minor collision with the library door and he is bleeding rather profusely. Would you go tend to him?" Remus said from the doorway.

Mrs. Weasley looked reluctant to go, her eyes on Hermione. She seemed torn between helping her injured son and being with her.

"Go on, I don't think they'll bite," Hermione said with a small smile, knowing that whatever this group wanted to speak with her about that Molly was fully against it and would likely cause a stir, so it was best if she was occupied while they conversed.

"Arthur, you know how I feel about this-"

"I do, Molly."

The two caught eyes and Mrs. Weasley hesitated a moment longer more before nodding curtly and making her way up to Ron.

Remus took the seat she had abandoned on the other side of Hermione and Arthur turned to him. "I hope you didn't injure my son too badly, Remus."

"He'll be fine, just a broken nose, nothing Molly can't handle. Now, I suggest we get down to business?"

Hermione looked around at their small group. She felt comforted with these two men beside her, Tonks leaning against the wall behind Snape. Kingsley sat across from Remus next to Snape, his dark figure relaxed and lounging in his seat while Moody sat to the left of Snape, his stature erect, his hands resting one on top of the other on his cane which was propped in front of him. Bill sat on the other side of Arthur, twirling his wand in his hand, tense, as if ready to pounce.

All eyes turned to Snape who folded his hands nonchalantly on the table and looked at Hermione.

"Miss Granger, you have been assisting in the retrieval of the Horcruxes?"

His question was more of a statement, and a rather unnecessary one as everyone in the room had been involved in her mission.

"Yes."

"So I would be correct in assuming you understand the very classified nature of this endeavor?"

"Yes…"

Snape lifted his brow at her. "Are you aware that a certain Draco Malfoy has gotten ahold of some vital information about the sixth and final Horcrux?"

Her heart leapt in her chest and she felt faint.

Draco had betrayed her. He'd said he'd ask his father, but she had never actually thought…Oh, _gods._ It was true, everything he'd said when he'd left her in that field. He'd used her to get information, beguiled her with sweet words and heated embraces until she began blabbing about Horcruxes.

Her stomach dropped, knowing how stupid she'd been, knowing that she'd put everyone in danger by her foolish actions. Everything they'd worked so hard for was down the drain, all because of her.

"Miss Granger?" Snape snapped and she realized she'd simply been staring into the space before her in shock. She looked up at the severe man, meeting his gaze. He was exactly as she had remembered him from school; ruthless, calculating, cold.

"Yes," she whispered guiltily.

 _"Yes?"_

She closed her eyes momentarily against the weight of her shame. "Yes."

He _tutted_ condescendingly. "And here I thought you were supposed to be the brightest witch of our age."

"Severus-" Arthur started.

"How did he come about this information?" Snape interrupted, his gaze hard and penetrating, ignoring the heated glares from those around him.

Meeting his patronizing look, Hermione told him. "I got a fever from a wound I received fighting Trackers. He claimed I hallucinated and I must have mentioned Nagini because when I came-to, Dr-Malfoy asked me about her. I refused to tell him anything more but it was too late. He seemed ignorant of the Horcrux so I didn't think we'd have anything to worry about. I never dreamed he would go to his father-"

"His father?" Snape sneered evilly. "Now, that's interesting. I never said anything about going to his father. What makes you think Mr. Malfoy went to his father with this information instead of straight to the Dark Lord, Miss Granger?"

"This isn't an interrogation, Severus!" Tonks snapped, stepping forward, her hair flaring to a bright, angry red.

"Quiet, Nymphadora," Snape snapped scornfully, not meeting the searing look Kingsley gave him.

Remus stiffened beside her defensively. Hermione placed her hand on his forearm when he went to speak, but she knew she deserved every last bit of Snape's wrath.

Her eyes never looked away from Snape. "He told me he would ask his father if I did not tell him."

"And you did not feel this was necessary to share with everyone else?"

"No."

"Why not?"

"Because I didn't think he would," she admitted. "I thought-"

"You thought wrong."

The room was heavy with the damning silence that clung to his words. She could see the disappointment in Moody's gaze, feel the stiffness of the fatherly figures who flanked her. Bill straightened in his seat uncomfortably, the only sound in the tense room. Her shame threatened to consume her.

"Your failure to report important information has cost us our advantage," Snape continued. "The Dark Lord is aware of our activities as well as your association to them. This had put us in a very tight predicament. Do you understand the severity of the situation your actions have put us in?"

Hermione swallowed thickly. "Yes."

The oily Death Eater leaned forward, his face hard, his dark eyes flashing.

"Miss Granger, it is crucial that we have that snake. Without it, the Dark Lord will rule. We must do everything in our power to retrieve it immediately."

"Do you have any suggestions?" she asked seriously. The atmosphere in the room grew ever tighter, closing in on the people in it. She knew she was the reason these people she loved were in danger, and she would do anything in her power to repair the damage done.

"Yes," he admitted tightly, almost as if he didn't want to say it.

"Then let's hear it." She knew it must be bad or else Molly wouldn't have stormed out, Tonks wouldn't be on the defense, Moody wouldn't be so unusually silent. She was prepared for the worst. There was a reason Harry hadn't been called to this meeting, that the other Weasleys were mysteriously absent.

Before Snape could speak, Remus cut in. "Hermione, you don't have to do anything you don't want to. We don't want you to think-"

"Thank you, Remus, but I am the reason we are in this situation. I've already made my decision. Whatever it is you need me to do, I'll do it. I'm the one who got us into this mess so I'll damn well help get us out of it."

Moody gave her a grave nod of respect and she steeled herself against what Snape was about to say.

The oily haired man stared at her from across the table, almost seeming to weigh her words.

"To pry the snake away from the Dark Lord we require a distraction, a ruse. Something that will occupy his time long enough to give us time to corner and destroy it. That is where we need you."

"I'm listening. What do you suggest we do?"

Snape's dark, humorless sneer made Hermione extremely uneasy and she started to wonder what she'd gotten herself into.

"Give him what he wants."

Hermione's heart sank. She knew what he was referring to, but she had to hear the words, had to make it real.

"And what is that?"

"You."

...

XOXO

RynStar15


	22. Chapter 22

Hermione struggled to get back the breath she had lost. Even knowing what he'd been about to say it still struck her to her core. The consequences of her actions would be paid for with her life.

She knew the fever that had led to her admission had not been her fault. She'd been struck with a powerful curse; even if Draco _had_ known about her injury from the beginning she would have succumbed either way as Alvida had been the only one who could have saved her from the ancient spell.

But she had made the decision to let Draco go back to his family, knowing what he did about Nagini. Her feelings for him had clouded her judgment and now they were all in danger, their only hope to bait her to the darkest wizard of all time.

She'd never survive.

Hermione sat stock still as the men around her shifted uncomfortably while Tonks chewed on her lower lip, her hair fading from its fiery red to a murky black.

As her silence lengthened Snape sat back slowly in his chair, his expression unreadable.

"Miss Granger," Mad-Eye growled, speaking for the first time since she'd arrived. "We understand that what we ask of you is grievously unreasonable. We did not come to this decision lightly. No one here wishes to see you harm, but the cold hard fact is that you may be our only diversion powerful enough to draw the Dark Lord's eyes from the snake. It is unfair of us to ask you of this, but it may be the only chance we have."

Hermione nodded, her tongue still stuck to the roof of her mouth and she noticed for the first time a hand on her shoulder, though she didn't bother to see whether it was Remus' or Arthur's.

"He won't kill you right away," Snape said lowly. "He knows you are the one who was the forerunner in the destruction of his Horcruxes and as he has had his eye on you for quite some time his ire has become quite…insatiable."

Hermione repressed a shudder. She must have revealed more than she'd realized if Draco had been able to supply him with this information. Her heart clenched at the reminder of his betrayal.

"He will keep you alive for a while," Snape continued, his voice as calm as if he were reading instructions from a manual. "He will torture you, play with you, extract information you are not willing to give. He will be obsessed with tearing you apart."

"Severus, that's enough!" Arthur snapped beside her, but Snape caught her eye.

"It will give us time."

No wonder they had wanted Mrs. Weasley to leave, she would have been beside herself if she'd heard Snape's description. But Hermione knew he didn't tell her to scare her or torment her; he said it so that she would know what she was getting herself into, so that she could understand that his anger towards her was the greatest chance they had to tear him away from his precious pet.

And that in doing so, she would be submitting herself to a painful and horrifying death.

"I'll do it."

The room was tense again, the hand on her shoulder clenching painfully.

"You won't be alone, Hermione," Bill spoke up, leaning around his father so that she could see the sincerity in his bright blue eyes. "We'll all be there, the Order, the Aurors. It will be a staged battle, we'll take you in, let him find you, and locate the snake. We'll get you out of there, we won't leave your side."

"A contingent will be stationed with you at all times," Mr. Weasley said, his voice strained. "We won't send you in there alone. We only need you to hold him off for a few minutes, keep him distracted, get his focus off the snake."

Tonks spoke up from behind Snape, her eyes flashing. "We'll be right there with you the whole way. I'll fight right alongside you."

"We Aurors will plant a tracking device on you; we'll know where you are at all times if he attempts to take you elsewhere," Kingsley informed her in his low, honeyed tones.

She knew what she was committing to. No matter what they did to try to reassure her, she knew she would die. Faced against Lord Voldemort's wrath she stood no chance. There was no way they would be able to find her if he didn't want them to.

This was the end of the line for her. She'd done what she had been put here to do and now she would give the ultimate sacrifice to her cause. Everyone had to die and what better way than to go out trying to save the world?

"When?"

Snape raised his eyebrow. He'd apparently expected her to fight, to lash out, to cry and beg not to be forced into this. It was apparent her collected composure surprised him. "We are waiting for confirmation, but most likely tomorrow."

She nodded, swallowing hard. One night. She had one night left to live. She would never get to see her parents again, never get to have a career, never again stand on the beach and feel the sand beneath her toes. She would never know what it would feel like to hold her own child or to get married. She wouldn't be able to watch her friends fall in love and have families and grow old. _But,_ she told herself, _if you do this, you'll be giving them the chance to do those things. They will go on and be happy. You can't be selfish._

"Do you have a plan?" she asked calmly, her voice low and even, concealing the turmoil within.

Remus nodded solemnly and they proceeded to explain it to her. Mrs. Weasley walked in silently several minutes later and sat on a chair at the end of the table to listen to the plan, tears coursing down her face. Hermione knew, and she could tell by looks on their faces and the too-hopeful cadence of their voices, that they all knew she wouldn't make it out alive.

After they had gone over the plan numerous times, every detail being evaluated, every slight miscalculation smoothed out, they excused her. She requested to inform Harry and Ron on her own and they agreed that it would be for the best.

As Hermione ascended the stairs she realized that everything seemed much more real than usual. Her senses appeared to be on high alert, as if her body knew that its time was limited and wished to drink it all in. She could hear the murmurs of the voices below her, could feel the grains of wood on the banister beneath her fingertips. She could feel her heart pumping much more fiercely than usual as if in denial and smell Ginny's flowery perfume as she passed by their door.

She would not complain, she couldn't think of a more noble way to die. She just wished that she had more time…

She stopped outside Sirius' room and could hear the boys' deep voices within. She couldn't understand what they were saying but the sounds of their dulcet tones were enough for her. She leaned against the door for a moment, just listening, felt the tears building and willed herself not to cry, to be brave. But when a rumble of laughter sounded beyond the door, she felt a sob catch in her throat.

How would she ever be able to say goodbye to them?

 _Stop it! Stop being such a coward! They need you to be strong, to be brave. Harry has chosen to give his life for all of us numerous times. His parents died for the cause, Sirius, Dumbledore, countless others. You can do it too._

Taking a deep breath, she knocked and turned the doorknob, the metal cool beneath her palm. The boys were lounged on Harry's four-poster, their faces bright with mirth. Ron's face fell when he saw her and he looked away, but Harry rolled his eyes and beckoned her inside.

She took a seat at Harry's desk next to his bed near Ron who scooted up to lean against the headboard and refused to meet her eye. She felt terrible about earlier and now she'd never be able to make it up to him. That would be the last thing he remembered about her; that she'd denied his advances. She closed her eyes in an effort to contain the tears that begged at the corners of her eyes at the thought.

Hermione clasped her trembling hands in her lap and scratched at the seam on her jeans. She looked up at Harry reluctantly while he patiently waited for her to say something. She tried to several times, her mouth gaping open stupidly but the words refused to come.

"Why did they want a meeting with you, Hermione?" Harry offered, his eyes concerned. He could tell there was something going on.

"Yeah, and why couldn't we come?" Ron complained gruffly. "We're part of the Order, too!"

"Yes, I know," she replied meekly. "They wished to speak to me privately…"

"Why?" Harry asked when she lost her words. When she still didn't answer he began to ask again, but she cut him off, forcing herself to speak.

"Because they have another mission for me."

 _"Another one?"_ Ron thundered. "What in the bloody hell are they thinking? They _do_ know there are other people in this damn place besides you who can do things! All I've done is track down bloody Death Eaters!"

Hermione swallowed several times, not able to meet their gaze.

"Hermione, what's this new mission?" Harry asked slowly and she could hear the accusation beneath it.

"Well, see… there's a problem. With the snake."

"Problem?" Ron asked. He sat up higher as Harry scooted towards the edge of the bed, both of them now tense.

She nodded. "Remember how I told you about that fever I contracted while I was…gone?"

They murmured their acknowledgement and she continued.

"Well, I guess I said some things, I was really very sick, I don't remember saying any of it…however, it turns out I hallucinated and told Draco about Nagini."

"You _WHAT?"_ Ron thundered.

"Draco?" Harry asked suspiciously. Hermione pretended she didn't hear him and mentally kicked herself for letting his name slip.

"It wasn't intentional, Ronald. I didn't even know I'd said anything until he confronted me about it. He didn't know everything, he didn't know about the Horcrux. Thankfully I didn't tell him that much. I supposed I was just feeling guilty about failing you guys and it sort of…slipped out."

They were quiet for a minute and then Harry spoke up. "Why didn't you tell us this in the first place? I mean, it's not like you did it on purpose, I'm sure no one blames you."

"I didn't even think about it, to be honest. He didn't know what I was talking about and I never dreamed he would tell his father about it. But he did. And now they know that the other Horcruxes are gone."

They both sputtered in shock, but Hermione went on. "Nagini is under constant supervision, she is never left alone and she is almost always with Voldemort."

Ron flinched at the name but said nothing. He probably knew it would do no good.

"So what are we going to do?" Harry asked, his voice gravelly, lost.

 _Here goes._ "That's where I come in."

"In what way?" Ron asked. "They're not really expecting you to go after that snake now, are they? If so they're mental! It's suicide! You just said it was always guarded, and usually by You-Know-Who!"

"I know what I said, Ron. And no, they are not asking me to go after Nagini."

"What then?" Harry asked, his eyes wild. If he was any closer to the edge of the bed, he would fall off.

Hermione dropped her head and took a deep breath to steel herself. She could remember nearly every single moment the three of them had spent together. Her memory was nearly photographic and she could see them doing everything; struggling in Devil's Snare, sitting in the library trying to find a way to make Harry breathe under water, cramming into the toilet stall in Moaning Mytle's bathroom. She could remember standing uncomfortably in a room full of ghosts at Nearly Headless Nick's Death-day party, getting their teeth stuck on Treacle Tart at Hagrid's, walking through Hogsmead while Harry was invisible beneath his cloak. She recalled joking around in Ron's orange bedroom at the Burrow, fetching water at the Quidditch World Cup, studying under a shady tree by the lake. These two boys, who were very obviously men now, had changed her life so drastically that she couldn't be sorry she was giving it for them. She would never regret a single moment.

And so, with that thought in her head, she was able to look them in the face and tell them.

"They're going to use me as bait for Voldemort while you guys find and kill Nagini."

A moment of stunned silence. Then-

 _"WHAT?!"_ they both bellowed. Harry was on his feet screaming about beating some sense into the people downstairs while Ron berated her for even thinking she should do something so foolish.

"Stop! Please, just listen to me! LISTEN TO ME!" They quieted for a moment in shock at her outburst and she was able to drag Harry back by to the bed by the arm. "Please, just hear me out!"

"Use you as bait?" Harry railed, standing back up and staring down at her menacingly. He grabbed her upper arms and lowered his face to hers.

"Hermione, are you _mad?_ Do you even know what you are saying? _He-will-kill-you!"_

"No, he won't," she lied keeping her voice calm, as she put her hands soothingly on Harry's forearms. "At least not right away."

"Yeah, sure!" Ron shouted coming up and joining Harry. The two had grown sprouted up significantly over the years and formed an alarming front.

"Do really you think he'll let you off easy? Read you a bedtime story? You're Harry's friend, you're a Muggle-born! He'll rip you to pieces!"

"Hermione, I've been up against him, I know what he's like!" Harry added, his fingers tightening on her arms. "He'll kill you the second he lays eyes on you! Ron's right, you're one of my best friends, he'd do anything to get his hands on you!"

"That's exactly why they chose me to do this."

That shut them up.

For a moment.

"What are you saying?" Ron asked weakly.

"Harry, will you please let me go?" she asked as his grip had tightened excruciatingly.

"Sorry," he muttered and released her, but he didn't step back, just looked down at her with terror in his eyes. Hermione continued, keeping her voice level and matter-of-fact, hating the devastation each syllable brought t their faces.

"What I'm saying is that he knows I'm the one who located all those Horcruxes. He won't kill me right away because he'd rather use me for his own twisted pleasure. He'll torture me for information, he won't kill me immediately. He knows that there are worse punishments than death. He'll take his time with me, he'll be distracted. That will leave you guys to find and kill Nagini. I will be under constant supervision by Order members. As soon as you kill the snake they'll take me out of there. This plan will work." _For you._

"Hermione, no, this is ridiculous! There is no way I'm going to let you do this!" Harry raged, heading towards the door once more.

"It's not your decision to make, Harry! Now will you please just calm down and see reason?" she plead, grabbing at his arm, which he wrenched from her. He kept going and she huffed in frustration.

Hermione waved her arm furiously and the door slammed shut and sealed itself with a resounding _pop_ before he could reach it. Whipping around, Harry was about to snap at her before booking down at her bare hands. Harry and Ron stared at her as though she'd grown two heads.

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to-"

"Hermione," Ron said weakly. "You're not holding your wand. You didn't use your wand."

Startled, she realized she hadn't. She had left it next to her bed. She barely even thought about it anymore, no longer needing it. She could remember a time when she never would have left the room without it. Even going to the bathroom she would take it. But now, it was just a second thought.

"I told you we couldn't use wands," she replied.

"Yeah, I guess, but I just never realized…bloody hell! You can do wandless magic!" Ron said, thunderstruck. She knew he had never succeeded in the art, having had trouble turning a match into a needle.

"Yes."

"How much?"

"Anything, I suppose."

"Can you Levitate me?" he asked eyes wide, enthralled by her new talent until Harry cleared his throat. Ron quickly sobered and turned back to the task at hand.

"Even though you can do magic without your wand doesn't mean anything," Harry said. "Voldemort is ten times stronger, faster, darker. He could hit you with a hundred different spells before you can think of one. There is no way in fucking _hell_ I'm going to let him have a go at you just so we can kill that goddamned snake. We'll figure out another way."

"There isn't one, Harry! We're out of time! There _is_ no other way. He's wanted me dead for months now, Malfoy told me so. And now that he knows I helped with the Horcruxes he'll be beside himself once I'm in his grasp! It's the only chance we have of taking his mind off Nagini long enough to kill her, and you know it. Don't you trust me?"

"Of course I trust you!" Harry thundered, his arms flailing in his anger. "Hermione, I trust you with my life, with everything I have. I know you can hold your own in a battle. I've seen you fight and I couldn't wish for anyone better at my back. But I won't subject you to this, it's asking too much."

"No, it's not Harry. This is my fault. We would never be in this situation if it weren't for me."

"Hermione! It's not your fault!" Ron added. "It was an accident, you were hallucinating! If you need to repent go do the dishes for mum or something, don't go throwing yourself at You-Know-Who!"

"I am not _throwing_ myself! You two make it sound as if I am just going to lay there and take his abuse! I'll fight him, weaken him as much as I can until you guys come for me and then Harry can finally finish him once and for all. I won't be alone, I'll have protection. It will work. Just sit down and we'll talk about this. Please?"

The two looked at each other, conversing with their eyes as only two best friends can. After a moment they relented and lowered themselves onto the bed.

"Thank you," she said, relieved she didn't have to fight with them anymore, and then Ron spoke.

"You know, we're not doing this because we agree to this ridiculous plan. We're doing it because you sealed the bloody door."

The three of them looked at the door and Hermione turned back to them sheepishly where they were grinning like fools. She looked into the amused faces of her best friends and the three of them laughed.

Yes, she could give her life for them.

...

Draco swung open the doors to the Manor and strode in as if he were still master of the house. It was his given right to meander about the place as he damn well pleased and he instilled a persona of confidence and security; his face a mask to the outside world from the tumult within. His expensive shoes rang against the glossy tile as his long strides pulled him towards his formidable destination.

He heard his name being called out by someone to his right but he continued on without even glancing their way. He would do as he was told, just as he had for his entire life. His entire existence had been centered on the bidding of others, but he was here to help stop that. He was doing as Snape commanded because he knew the man would steer him true, he knew that what Snape had asked him to do was for the greater good and he had entrusted it to him for a reason.

Even though it might kill him, he would go through with these orders, one last time he would take them from someone else and then, when this was all over, he would go forth and forge a life of his own in which he had to answer to no one but himself.

Draco stopped outside the cold black doors that were flanked by two masked Death Eaters.

"I wish an audience with our Master," he said curtly.

"Is he expecting you?" came the voice of Macnair from his left.

"No, but I believe he will be pleasantly surprised. Go inform him that I wish to speak with him, I will wait until he is ready." Draco took a seat in a wing-back chair situated across from the large double doors specifically for the purpose of awaiting the Master's summons.

After a slight hesitation, Macnair did as Draco had told him and disappeared inside the room after knocking on the door which swung open to admit him. He was gone for several minutes in which Draco sat mightily on the chair as he always had, keeping his arrogant self on the fore-front for the as-yet-unknown Death Eater was still keeping guard at the right hand side of the door. When Macnair returned he wheezed, "Our Master will see you, now."

"Excellent!" Draco leapt to his feet and sauntered past the guards into the room lit only by firelight. Somber lighting had always seemed to be a fascination with the Dark Lord. Or perhaps he was simply so evil he could no longer stand the light of day.

"Young Malfoy, what a pleasure it is to see you, and so soon! I'd quite thought you might have run again," the cold voice came from the tall figure looming over the fire, gazing into its depths, one hand patiently stroking his pet snake that was coiled around his shoulders.

He could kill it now, it was so close, he could just reach out…

Draco knelt behind the Dark Lord and spoke to the floor.

"Never, my Lord. My only goal is to serve you. I have come with information I hope you will find useful."

"Rise."

Draco did so and looked into the eyes of the snake-like face before him. One long, bony finger trailed its way down Draco's cheek and he fought not to shudder. He kept his mind closed of the parts he did not want the Dark Lord to know, bringing to the fore false images of hate against the Muggle-borns and servitude to his Master.

"Your mood has greatly improved in just a single day, Draco. What has made you so sure of yourself?" the Dark Lord drawled as Nagini slowly coiled down his long body, slithering to the floor to settle before the roaring fire. The steely voice froze Draco's innards. He could feel the evil pouring out of the half-man he had pledged his life to. What had ever made him want to serve a maniac like him?

"I have done some inner contemplating and I am ready to take my true place in this world," he said entirely truthfully. "I regret the wrong-doings of my past. I am ready to prove myself fully."

The Dark Lord studied him for an agonizing minute and finally nodded.

"What did you have in mind?"

"I found some information yesterday that I think you will find most beneficial," he said, remembering the plan he'd made with Snape only the night before word-for-word, though it tore at his heart to utter the words.

"Go on."

 _Gods, save me from what I'm about to do. Please forgive me._ "I regret to inform you that Hermione Granger has located and helped destroy your Horcruxes."

His gut twisted with pain as he watched the Dark Lord's face warp in anger. His fists clenched and Draco knew he was on a thin thread of control and he wondered wildly if the psychotic man might just strike him down right there out of pure rage. Then he thought of that gaze locked on Hermione instead and he felt sick. _What have you done?_

He seemed to struggle for composure. "You are sure of this?"

"Yes, my lord. She used a Time Turner to go back and follow you. She figured out exactly how retrieve the hidden Horcruxes and led the Order straight to them."

The Dark Lord strode away from Draco and back to the fireplace, one hand grasping the mantle very tight, the other squeezing his wand as if preparing to use it.

"I will bring her to you so that you may enact justice."

The Dark Lord was quiet.

"Give me a few more days and I can-"

"I gave you two, Draco," the Dark Lord snapped, turning on him, his tone dangerous. "Do you mean to tell me that you cannot produce her in that amount of time?"

"Of course not, my lord!" Draco said. "I can extract her readily enough, but I require my wand. It was seized upon my arrival. If my gracious lord would grant me access to it I will have her here as you wish, tomorrow."

The Dark Lord contemplated for a long moment, before twisting his wrist, Draco's wand dropping into his outstretched hand from thin air. He held it out to him and Draco bowed, retrieving it.

"You will, or you will pay. That girl has met the last of her days and I wish to see to the end of them. She will suffer most dearly for ever thinking she could thwart the Dark Lord! I will show you what we do to those who think they can best the greatest wizard who ever lived. Her dirty blood will stain the wood, mark my words. Bring her to me by noon tomorrow, Draco, or I will hunt you down and you too, shall see my wrath. Now, leave."

"Yes my lord, thank you my lord."

Draco stumbled in his haste to depart. He could feel the anger radiating off the creature now crooning in Parseltongue to his snake as he threw open the doors and hurried down the hallway. He fought with himself not to run but he was terrified of the beast behind him and he did not want to run into his-

"Draco!"

-father.

Remembering Snape's words, Draco acted as if he hadn't heard his sire and hurried across the entrance hall, nearly falling outside so that he could Apparate away. As soon as his feet hit the concrete he was turning, Spinners End on his mind. When he landed he ran as fast as he could and threw himself into the creaky old house which was now his sanctuary. His breath came in pants as slammed the door shut and fell against it, beating his fists against the wood repeatedly, anger coursing through him.

 _What have you done?_

He'd betrayed the only person he'd ever loved, that's what he'd done. He'd secured her death, placed the two coins on her eyes for the boatman. He felt as if his soul were ripping in two and for a moment he found it hard to breathe, his chest was constricted and his heart no longer wanted to pump blood into his screaming vessels. Gripping the door handle he slumped to the floor with a sob and laid his head against the rotting wood, his world in pieces. He would never forgive himself.

It took him a long while to regain composure. Taking a few deep breaths he pulled himself together and took another moment before he heaved himself to his feet and headed to the shelves of books lined around the room. There had to be something, somewhere, that could help him. Grabbing one at random he threw it onto the coffee table and began flipping through the musty pages, determination urging him on.

...

XOXO  
RynStar15


	23. Chapter 23

Hermione closed the door of Harry's bedroom and walked down the stairs to her own in a haze. They had been talking for hours, it was nearly dinner time, and she still didn't feel as if they'd go through with the plan. She had begged and pleaded for them to understand, to not make it any harder than it already was, but they refused to back down. She had finally gotten away by claiming a headache, which was most certainly true, and the moment her bedroom door had closed behind her she could hear their feet thundering down the steps towards the kitchen where they would most certainly be wreaking havoc.

The Order would talk to them, make them understand. Hermione knew Molly and Arthur would be explaining things to Ginny so she might have some peace and quiet in her room. She flopped on the bed and stared at the ceiling. When had things gotten so messed up?

She smiled thinking about when _exactly_ they had. She'd been crying in a bathroom stall when a _crash_ had jolted her up and made her throw open the small door. There stood a troll, twelve feet high and alarmingly disgusting. She remembered trying to find her way to the outer door but couldn't make it past the hideous monster. She had stood frozen in fright, awaiting her agonizing death when Harry and Ron had come flying in, wands at the ready, to her rescue.

Yes, that had been the day when everything had changed for her. It hadn't been the day when she'd gotten her acceptance letter; a part of her had always known that she was destined for something greater than a private all-girls high school and Muggle university. No, her real life change had begun when she'd befriended the clumsy redhead and the gangly boy whom everyone knew and revered.

And then again when she had run into Draco Malfoy in that dark dungeon hallway three weeks ago. How had everything changed so much in less than a fortnight? How could a person possibly fall in love in such a short amount of time? It was ridiculous! Love had to grow, it needed time to blossom. What she _was_ was infatuated with a stranger who didn't really exist. The Draco of the thirteenth century did not exist in this time. He was against her, he hated her, he had betrayed her.

So what if he'd been considerate about her first time? So what if he'd crooned loving words in her ear when they'd writhed together? So what if he'd rescued her from the river, taken care of her when she'd been ill? Did it matter that he'd carried her through a forest when she'd been hurt or that he'd found the way to Alvida and ultimately saved her life? Did it matter that he was the first one to ever make her realize how it could feel to have someone worship her, to love her for all that she was and wasn't?

It mattered, it did, but it couldn't. She would be dead by this time tomorrow, never to experience those soft caresses or sweet words again. The best she could do was to remember them fondly, forget his hateful words and be thankful that she'd experienced those tender feelings before she died.

With that in mind she lifted her weary body and sat at her desk pulling out sheets of parchment. She had a lot of letters to write.

...

Draco started at the sound of a door slamming. He looked up from the tiny text he had been scanning, one of many piled around him. He could recall being in a similar situation last year, scanning books he could scarcely read, searching, searching for an answer. Just as he did now. There had to be a way out, just as he'd managed one before, he could do so again…

He looked up at the hooked nose man in front of him. He was tired, mentally, physically, and he could see a mirror image of his emotions in his mentor.

"What are you doing, Draco?" Snape drawled.

Draco scratched his scalp for probably the hundredth time, gesturing to the tomes before him. "I-I…there has to be something…has to be…"

He heard the loud footsteps before he was being lifted by the upper arms and pulled to look straight into the face of the only man besides Dumbledore who had ever offered him help, who had ever offered a sense of the man he wanted to be.

"Get ahold of yourself! We can't afford for you to fall apart, not now, not when we're so close!"

Draco wrenched from his grasp, knocking his hands aside. "I _know,_ dammit! I know! I'm not, I'm just…I'm fucking desperate. There's got to be a way-"

"There is none, you can't find the answer to this in a book. This war is unlike any the wizarding world has faced. I understand your feelings for Miss Granger, but you cannot allow them to deter you. We need her to do what she was meant to do. She has accepted her fate, now it's time for you to as well."

A part of Draco's mind snapped to attention. "You-you told her? She knows?"

"Of course she knows! We need her to be a part of the plan. She is ready to go through with it. Now, I need to know that you will not hinder this in any way. Tell me now, Draco, and tell me honestly. Can you handle this?"

Draco turned from his damning gaze and walked away, his hands once again in his now messy blonde hair. She knew, she knew she was going to die, that the people who loved her going to throw her to the Dark Lord as a diversion, a distraction. And she had agreed.

Of course she had agreed! Did he ever, for one second, think she wouldn't?

But what if she was carrying his child?

Even if she wasn't he didn't know if he could stand by and watch her thrown to the wolves. The horrible pain and fear she would suffer before her death- he shuddered. She would be mutilated, humiliated, broken, tormented. They all knew, she likely knew. Worst of all, _he_ knew. How would he ever live with it? Especially if there was the slightest chance she was pregnant?

Draco hadn't told Snape this aspect yet, not wanting yet another reason for his ex-Professor to remove him from this job.

Because the truth was, he needed to be there with her at her end. Even if she hated him, even if it destroyed him, he had to be there. He couldn't let her face this alone. That meant he had to be strong. He was a Malfoy, as much as he hated the taint that came along with it, the name instilled confidence, fearlessness. If she could give her life for them, then he could fucking do this last thing for her. He could make sure that she didn't die alone. She would have someone who loved her by her side to the very end.

"I can handle it," he rasped.

In the reflection of the dark window Draco saw Snape standing behind him, watching him. Draco straightened, drawing courage from the store Hermione had given him. He turned and faced the tall, skinny, domineering man.

"I'll do it for her. I won't let you down. You can count on me."

After studying him, Snape nodded curtly. "Then you should get some rest. It will be a long day."

Draco couldn't even imagine going to sleep. One last desire burned within him and he knew if he were to do this, he had to have this one last thing.

"Please, I…I need you to do something for me."

"What is that?"

"I need you to take me to Hermione. I have to see her one last time."

Snape looked as if he had swallowed a lemon.

"That's not possible, Draco. You know that."

 _"Why?_ Why is it not possible?" Draco thundered, advancing on the man who was now his guardian, attempting to make him understand. "I sentenced Hermione to death today! _I love her!_ Do you understand that? I bloody love her! Tomorrow I'm going to watch her die the most painful death imaginable and you are telling me I can't see her? Tell me _why!"_

There was a look in Snape's eye that drove into his soul. When he spoke, his voice was low, cold, raw. "She can't know, Draco. In order for her to succeed she has to be as detached as possible. Right now she is hurt from what you told her at your departure; she is under the impression that you hate her. This will make things easier tomorrow when she is forced to see you. You will have to keep the image up. She can't know your true feelings, for it could break her resolve. This is for her; her protection as well as yours. If she betrayed her emotions in fear, if he thought that she loved you, he might use you as well. We can't risk it, we need you."

"Oh, you need _me,_ a fuck up, someone who has never done anything right before in his life, but Hermione, the brightest witch of the age, the one who _found_ the damn Horcruxes, is dispensable? What the fucking hell goes through your mind? How do you come to these sick conclusions? You'll sacrifice an innocent young woman who could bring unlimited amounts of knowledge and courage to the table but you'll protect an arrogant, no good arsehole like me?"

He was furious; this whole damn business was bloody ridiculous! He hadn't risked everything to save her only to send her to her death!

"You'll understand some day."

Draco snapped. "Don't give me that fucking shit!" he screamed, remembering how Milo had told him the same thing, Alvida… It wasn't enough, not his time, not when it came to Hermione's life.

He wanted to hit him, to tear that calm, detached face to pieces and throw them to the floor, rip them beneath his heel. "Don't tell me that _someday_ when I'm _older_ that I'll understand! I'm sending the love of my life to her _death_ tomorrow! I need to understand _NOW,_ DAMN IT!"

Snape sighed, his face finally showing some shred of humanity, and took a step forward. "Draco-"

"Don't you do that! Don't you fucking take the sympathetic route! You have NO FUCKING CLUE what I'm going through! When have _you_ ever loved someone? When have you ever had to watch them die? You keep saying that this is ' _not a game'_ but it sure as hell seems like you're playing chess master, moving the little mindless pawns along to do your bidding! _WHAT HAVE YOU HAD TO SACRIFICE?"_

"THAT IS ENOUGH!" Snape roared advancing on Draco. "You are lucky for the pity I have shown you thus far, for the years I turned my back, for the torture I endured to keep you safe! Do you think I enjoy sending Miss Granger out there to her demise? None of us are indifferent about this decision! But we understand that this is bigger than us, bigger than her! Sometimes we have to play the hands we are dealt, even if we don't like them, even when they kill us inside. Miss Granger understands this, now you have to as well. You think I am heartless? Well maybe I am! But I am because of the things I have to do, the things I have to see, the things I've had to give for the 'greater good.' _That_ is my sacrifice, Draco!"

Draco screamed until the windows around him shattered and the books flew off the shelves, his magic unleashed as it hadn't been since he was a small child. Snape threw up a shield to protect them from the blast, but Draco couldn't care less at this point. Let it hit him, tear his skin, mutilate his body. It would be _nothing_ compared to what Hermione would have to endure. He screamed until his voice broke, until his newly repaired soul shattered, and his heart slunk back in fear.

When there was nothing left he fell to his knees, gasping, shaking, sobbing.

And then Snape was there, next to him, holding him, cradling Draco to him like a small child. Draco wept as he had never before, as he never even knew was possible. His heart just splintered into pieces, falling to the dirty floor where it mocked him with what he'd so nearly had. Just as everything was handed to him, it was taken away. How would he live after tomorrow? How could he go on knowing that Hermione would not? Where would he find the strength?

When the tears ran their course, mortification washed over him. He pulled away from Snape and wiped his ruddy face on the sleeve of his cloak, not looking at his godfather. He had never broken down in front of someone like that before. He'd cried in front of that damn ghost, but nothing like this. He was ashamed of his weakness.

"There is a way."

Draco's neck snapped up, cricking. The broken pieces of his heart on the floor stood on end, waiting to hear what Snape had to say.

"I will take you to her. I have a potion you can use. It will make her forget everything that happens from the moment you give it to her until she falls asleep. When she wakes, it will be as if she had gone to bed and slept all night. She will remember nothing tomorrow. You can share one more night with her. I know it is not enough, but this is the way it has to be."

Completely dumbfounded by the heartfelt gesture, Draco couldn't find the words to say.

"Thank you," Draco croaked lamely, knowing it wasn't sufficient for the gift he'd just received, but unable to think of anything else to express his gratitude.

Snape nodded and Draco was shocked at the emotion swimming in his dark eyes. "Go clean up. She will not want to see you like this whether she remembers or not. When you are ready, we will leave."

Draco bolted up the stairs and into the bathroom, turning on the water for the shower with a wave of his hand, wasting no time. He wanted to spend every last second of the night with her. He hated that she would not remember him the way he was now, a man so desperately in love with her, but as the monster he had forced himself to be. But it was what had to be done; it would keep her safe, make it easier for her do to what she had to. At least some part of her subconscious would remember their love when she went.

Draco scrubbed himself furiously then brushed his teeth madly, gagging himself in the process. He used a simple cleaning charm on the only clothes he had and hurried to the now repaired drawing room. Snape stood waiting for him at the front door, vial in hand.

"You must give it to her before she sees you. A few drops is all she needs. You must not alert anyone to the fact that you are there. Silencing Charms were invented for a reason."

Draco grinned and Snape smiled (or what constituted as a smile with him) knowingly.

"Come, the night is yet young. You would not want to waste it."

Draco followed him outside and gripped his sleeve. In a whirl of colors he was standing at the door that separated him from Hermione.

One night. They had one night to be together, to make memories that Draco would have to carry with him for the rest of his meager life.

And she would never know.

...

Hermione shuffled the parchment envelopes until they were all perfectly even, then pulled a hair band out from the desk drawer and tied them together. She moved to her trunk and separated things into piles according to whom they were going to, the largest one for donation. She folded her yellow tank top, the one she'd worn during the mission when she and Draco had been thrown into the past. She placed it into the donation pile. She knew Ginny would look great in it, but she couldn't stand imagining that particular shirt on Ginny when she could still feel Draco's hands on her breasts over the top of the thin fabric…

She grabbed the top two books and looked at the titles; Hogwarts, A History and Gadding with Ghouls. She smiled and put them both into Ron's pile. She hoped he would see the humor in her selections as the inside cover of Gadding with Ghouls had Gilderoy Lockhart's loopy signature on it and a "Get Well" card tucked inside the pages. Her favorite book she reserved for him, hoping he would see how truly she cared for him, that she hadn't meant to hurt him this morning, hating that she'd never be able to explain in person…

She scowled and scolded herself for being bitter. She was being handed a wonderful gift, the chance to give her life for those she loved. It was something she would take with honor and courage. After all, she _was_ a Gryffindor.

A knock came at her door. She looked up as Ginny's wan faced poked through the crack.

"Mum wanted to know if you wanted to come and eat with the rest of us."

"Yes, yes of course," she said, clearing her throat. "Ginny, you don't have to knock; this is your room as well."

The red head shifted. "I know. It's just that…well mum said you needed some privacy and not to disturb you…"

Hermione rose and reached out a hand for the younger girl who came forward and gripped it hard. Hermione looked up into her face, the ginger beauty having surpassed her in height several years before.

Giant tears leaked out of Ginny's pale blue eyes.

"I don't want you to do it, Hermione. How am I just supposed to say good-bye?" Her voice broke and tears poured down her anguished face to the front of her jumper.

A lump rose in Hermione's throat as she pulled her into a hug, rocking the girl who had been like a sister to her gently, as she would any younger sibling had she been given one. She envied Ginny and Ron's large, obtrusive family and she felt blessed to have been a part of it.

"Ginny, everyone has a destiny. This is mine. No one makes it out of here alive, so I might as well go down doing what I want to do. This is a privilege and I am glad to do it. Can you promise me something?"

Ginny pulled back slightly and wiped at her tear-stained face.

"Of course! Anything!"

"Will you take care of Harry for me? And Ron? I know sometimes they can be blundering fools, but they mean well. Harry loves you, Ginny. He just doesn't want to see you hurt. When all this is over I want you to grab him and make him realize that he can't run away again. He's going to have a lot of pain and guilt. You can ease him of that. And Ron, well Ron loves you too, even though he may show it in odd ways. He means well." She swept the hair clinging to Ginny's wet face behind her ear. "Don't take my gift for granted. Live well, be happy. When you and Harry get married someday, think of me, will you? Bring me with you. And when you have all your little babies? Think of me."

Ginny sobbed harshly and nodded. Hermione could just imagine the beautiful children she and Harry would make together. Little girls with flaming red hair and little gangly green-eyed boys like their dad. She was spiteful that she would miss it, that she would never be 'Aunt Hermione.'

Ginny grabbed Hermione and cried freely. Hermione let her. She attempted to keep the tears at bay but was unsuccessful, suffering in her friend's anguish. When another knock came at the door she looked over. Ron stood in the open doorway. His nose was red, his eyes wet.

"Can I have a minute, Gin?" Ron's gravelly voice asked. Ginny nodded and wound her way out of Hermione's grasp. With one last look she flew out the door and down the stairs.

"This isn't fair," Ron whispered. Hermione gazed into his blue eyes, so much like Ginny's.

"Life isn't fair."

"I know... But it's not supposed to be this way. After all this Harry and Gin will…will...and I'll be alone…I'll be all alone."

"You won't be alone," she whispered, her heart breaking at the devastation in his eyes. "There are so many people who care about you who will be next to you when all this is over."

Ron strode forward and cupped her face. "But none of them are you."

When he leaned down and kissed her she let him. Her hands held his wrists as his thumbs swept away the escaped tears raining down her cheeks. She felt a few fall onto her face that were not hers as his soft lips caressed her own. It didn't matter now that she was in love with another; he would never have to know. He would go on believing that the two of them would have ended up together and Hermione didn't think it would have been such a bad thing. Whoever got Ron in the end was very lucky, and she told him so as he pulled away.

He laughed hollowly. "The problem is I don't want anyone else. I never really have, you know?"

She nodded. She did understand. It was how she felt now about Draco. She pulled him into her arms and held him tight.

"I don't know how to do this."

Hermione's heart ached. How did one say good-bye forever?

"Then let's not. There's nothing more that needs to be said. I love you, Ron. You've always been a good friend and I was lucky to have you in my life."

"I love you too, Hermione. I always have, even if I didn't know how to show it."

They stood there silently because there was nothing left to say. Hermione looked up when Harry walked in a hand in the back of his messy hair as he mussed it even more.

"I didn't mean to intrude…"

"No, no it's alright, Harry." Hermione waved him over to them. "We were just…talking."

Harry nodded and walked over to her. "Ron? Are you…?"

"Yeah." Ron let go of her and wiped his red face. "Yeah. I'll just…see you guys downstairs. Don't be too long or else mum will be sending the Order after you."

"We'll just be a minute," Harry replied. He waited until the door had closed behind Ron and he turned to her nervously.

"I'm not good at this…" he started.

"It's alright, Harry. You don't have to say anything."

Harry shook his head, his features hard. "It's not supposed to be you, Hermione. It wasn't supposed- this was _my_ burden to bear. The only reason he wants you is because of me. How do I live with this knowing it's all my fault?"

"Harry, no, it's not your fault!" When he began to rant again she grabbed his wrists and forced him to look at her. "Harry, listen to me! It's no fault of yours that Voldemort marked you when you were an infant! How could you possibly see it that way? _None_ of this happened because of you! He started this war long before we were born! You were chosen unwillingly to follow a path that tangled itself in his demise, but none of this was a product of your doing. You have done _nothing_ but help our side. Can you blame me for wanting to give as much? You can't take all the fame, Harry!" She tried to smile but his icy glare stung her.

"Don't joke about this," he said thickly. "If I hadn't brought you into this-"

"Will you stop pitying yourself already? Good Merlin, you didn't force me into this, I _chose_ to be your friend, none of us could have known what the future held. If I had to, I would choose the same path; there is nothing I would do different. I don't regret a single thing. I've been the happiest witch there is because I always had you and Ron beside me. You gave me a family who understood who I really was, you took me in when no one else would. We stood by each other through everything, were each other's family. This is what family does. Do not feel guilty, Harry. If anything, be happy that I get to choose the way I want to go. Not many people get to do that."

He said nothing, just stared at the floor. They were quiet for a while until he looked up at her, tears flooding his eyes as yet unshed.

"If I could change it, take your place-"

"I know, Harry. Just as you know I do it for you, for everyone."

"Thank you," he whispered. Broken, Hermione launched herself into his arms, holding him tight. Harry lifted her straight off the ground, his strong arms clutching her to his heaving chest as he attempted to stem the flood of tears.

When she was able to calm him enough she cast a quick Cleaning Charm on their ruddy faces and the two of them walked down to the kitchen, creeping past the portrait of Sirius's mother so as not to wake her. When Hermione walked into the basement room she gasped and clasped her hands over her mouth. She felt Harry's hands on her shoulders as she looked around.

The room had been enlarged to accommodate the crowd. She smiled at them all, marveling the people who were there to share their last night with everyone before tomorrow, no one knowing who might not make it through.

Lavender smiled tentatively at Hermione from where she stood with the Patil twins and Hermione returned it, having forgiven her classmate long ago for her dalliance with Ron. She was just beginning to wonder if something might spark up between them when Colin Creevy's camera flashed before her and Harry, a shroud of purple smoke encircling them to which Moody griped about, swigging from the flask at his hip.

She saw Zacharias Smith being taunted George, Bill rubbing a hand over a beaming Fleur's belly while Terry Boot ogled her. Hannah Abbott and Ernie MacMillan were talking animatedly to Professor Sprout and Charlie Weasley was hitting on Angelina Johnson while Oliver Wood glared from a distance. Katie Bell was making eyes at Fred who was floating a chortling Professor Flitwick over the crowd. Marcus Belby was discussing troll wars with Arthur while Susan Bones and her aunt, Amelia Bones argued over wizarding law.

Hermione couldn't help but laugh at Neville's face as Luna attempted to explain how Wrackspurts were related to Dunklemeres and the fact that Dean's eyes never left the blonde girl even as Seamus went on about some Quidditch match or other.

Hermione smiled when she saw that Molly was gazing starry eyes as Harry moved to Ginny and captured her hand while talking to Penelope Clearwater and Percy who had his thin arm around her while Michael Corner and Cho Chang looked on with venom. Doris Crockford was giggling next to Amos Diggory who was smiling for the first time Hermione had seen him since Cedric's death. Marietta Edgecomb, who still had a heavy layer of concealer over her forehead, was standing next to Cho while looking somewhat out of place and trying not to laugh at Mundungus Fletcher who was on his seventh Butterbeer and trying to transfigure a fork into an armadillo while McGonagall _tsked_ in disapproval.

Justin Finch-Fletchley was talking to Bob Ogden about a possible position opening up in the Department of Magical Law Enforcement. Augustus Pye and Madame Pomfrey discussed a new development in an Anti-Babbling potion while Horace Slughorn laughed uproariously at something Kingsley Shacklebolt had said and Remus and Tonks shared stolen kisses in a corner.

As Hermione gazed around the room her heart swelled in her chest. All these people were doing no less than she, gathering together in their darkest hour to celebrate living. They were all willing to give their lives for this cause, fighting for what they believed in.

She allowed Molly to bully her into eating from the enormous buffet laid out on the long table pushed to a side wall. Ron kept his eyes on her while he took up Seamus' Quidditch conversation as Dean followed Luna who had sat next to her. They were soon joined by several others and promptly they were all laughing and talking like they had in the days when nothing had been wrong, when the world had made sense and their biggest worry was the three-foot long Potions essay due on Tuesday.

Slowly, the room cleared and they bid each other goodnight, reminders to meet at Hogwarts at ten the next morning spread around. Molly pushed leftovers into everyone's hands and soon the room was cleared, only the youngest Weasleys, and Harry and Hermione left, Arthur and Molly ushered them upstairs, insisting they needed sleep. Ron and Harry said goodnight to her and Ginny on the second floor and continued upstairs to their own rooms. Hermione flopped on her bed after donning her favorite nightgown and listened to the breaths of the young girl next to her slow and finally enter the rhythmic measures of sleep while she stared at the pictures the moon made on the ceiling and thought about Draco.

...

XOXO

RynStar15


	24. Chapter 24

Hermione tossed and turned, sleep eluding her even after the settling night she'd just had. Her thoughts drifted to her parents. She was sad that she would never see them again, but pleased that they were safe and far removed from all of this, their memories erased from the fact that they'd ever had a daughter in the first place. At least she could spare them that pain.

But more than anything, bright blonde hair and smoky grey eyes devoured her thoughts. Draco. Oh, how she ached for him in this, her final moment of need. She needed his touch, his warmth surrounding her, lulling her to sleep. She wanted to feel his strong arms holding her one last time, to hear the words she so desperately wanted to hear though she knew he'd never feel.

Resigned that she would never get any rest in this fashion, she got up silently from her bed and crept into the hallway, heading for Harry's room. One last night being held by someone who loved her, one last comfort.

Her heart leapt to her throat when she was grabbed from behind and dipped almost as if she were in a romantic dance step. She tried to cry out but she'd been Silenced, nothing came from her gaping mouth. She struggled and choked when a tingling liquid was poured into her open mouth and slid down her throat. She tried to spit it out but a hand covered her mouth and nose, forcing her to swallow or choke and suffocate. Terrified, it slid down her throat, an aftertaste of seaweed nauseating her. She fought, kicking and throwing elbows to knock her perpetrator off, but they just held her tighter. A pair of lips descended to her exposed ear and whispered "Where can we go that's private?"

Oh. Dear. Merlin.

Draco. Her dream had come true in a nightmarish form. Her body jerked and she turned in his hold to look up at his face.

It was him. The man who had been haunting her dreams, every pale, perfect inch of him. She stared at him, tense, ready to fight this man who had betrayed her, until one long fingered hand cupped her cheek, his eyes blazing with desperation, and again asked for a private place.

Hermione led him silently to the empty rooms on the top floor of the creaky sanctuary that they'd never bothered to clean or decontaminate.

She pulled him into one of the dull, dingy, sparse rooms and his hands waved over the door, casting silent charms and lighting the candelabras. When he was done he cupped her cheek once more, his thumb caressing over her lips and she felt the ability of speech return to her. She had so many questions she didn't know where to start. As she opened her mouth to interrogate him, he shook his head and at the look on his face her words escaped her.

With a haunted look in his eye, Draco closed the distance between them and took her into his arms again.

This was what she had been waiting for, this feeling of completeness, of love. She didn't care what was between them, not anymore. It didn't matter when in a few hours she would be gone.

"You came back for me," she whispered against his shoulder.

"Yes."

She shuddered in pure joy and his grip tightened around her momentarily before he set her back.

"Hermione, we need to talk."

At the tone of his voice her heart sunk and she was reminded of the reality of their situation.

"Yes, we do."

He was tense for a moment before he spoke, his voice strained. "You can't go tomorrow."

She was stunned into silence. Taking a step back she eyed him wearily. How could he possibly know about their planned attack? Had he already informed them, would they be ambushed at the door?

"How do you-"

"It doesn't matter-"

"Of course it matters, Draco! What did you tell them? How do they know we're coming?"

Draco pursed his lips, his expression one of pain and guilt. "They have no knowledge of your plans to infiltrate. Snape and I have been working with the Order. I will be letting down the defenses so that you may enter. They'll be expecting me to bring you in for questioning at noon, but you will attack before then."

Hermione eyed him wearily. He'd been working _with_ the Order? But…what about his betrayal, selling her out…

"You told your father," she accused and the shame that overcame his features was startling.

"Yes. But I swear, Hermione, if I'd had any idea what would happen…I didn't know about the Horcrux, I had no idea…I swear, I never would have put you in danger-"

"How can I trust you?" she snapped. "You told me that day in the field that it had all just been an act and then you turn around and sell me out to Voldemort, you _told_ him I was responsible for the Horcruxes! You sentenced me to _death!"_

"I KNOW!" he thundered, turning away, his hands in his hair. When he spoke again his voice was harsh, as if he struggled with the words. "I know. And it killed me to do so. But how do you think I got that information, Hermione?" He turned to her, eyes full of pain. "I didn't even know about the Horcruxes until we got back. How do you think I found out about your involvement in them?"

Hermione felt as though she'd been stabbed in the chest. Realization barreled over her until she felt faint. How hadn't she caught on before?

"Snape…" she breathed. Draco nodded. "This…this was all a set up. He made you tell Voldemort so he would be angry, so he would focus on me…"

"Yes."

And they all knew. The Order knew. They'd purposefully planned her death to give them the greatest advantage.

Draco strode to her, grabbing her face and raising it to his. "They didn't want to do it, Hermione. None of us wanted to put you in danger, but they thought it was the only way. But I'm not going to let them follow through with it. I'm going to get you out-"

"No, Draco," she whispered. "I have to do this now. It's the only way-"

"No, dammit!" he yelled, his fingers gripping her hair hard, his eyes desolate. "I'll get you out of there, I'll take your place, tell him-"

"It won't work, he'll kill you instantly. Then they won't have time to-"

"I'll drag it out," Draco said desperately. "I'll goad him, fight him, do whatever it takes-"

She shook her head. "No, Draco. This isn't your fight. It's mine. You don't understand-"

"I understand perfectly, Hermione! I understand that you're willing to give your life for some false sense of responsibility! But you can't, not now…not when you might be endangering more than yourself tomorrow."

Confused, Hermione stared at him. "What are you talking about?"

Draco let out an enraged yell and covered her flat stomach with his hand. "I'm talking about _this!"_

She looked down at his hand, bewildered. "Draco, what are you-"

"I didn't use a Contraceptive Charm, Hermione!" Her eyes widened with horror. "Do you get it now? If you go out there tomorrow you could be risking the life of our child!"

Hermione covered his large hand with both of her small ones. A baby. It was possible, she hadn't had her monthly flow yet, but then again she wasn't due for her next one for another week, and hers had always been abnormal due to poor eating habits and excess stress.

She couldn't believe they'd been so careless, she'd never once stopped to think…

A baby. She looked up into Draco's pain-filled steely eyes. They pleaded with her to heed him.

She didn't know what to say. She'd had no problem committing her own life to the gallows, but that of an unborn child? How could she know for certain? She didn't know any magical methods of checking, never having had to even think about it, and it was far too early for any Muggle means…

"Are you? Pregnant?" he asked.

"I-I don't know…I shouldn't, you know… _start_ until next week…I don't know how we'd check…there's no way to be sure I suppose."

"Well, have you had any…you know…symptoms?"

"Draco, I don't know anything about being pregnant! Women present in all kinds of different ways…I just don't know!"

"Then that's it, you can't go."

She looked up at him, her heart full of pain. She considered, for a moment, of consenting. The thought of sentencing an innocent baby to death because of her mistake was sickening.

But then she thought of all the other babies who might never be born if they didn't succeed in this mission. The children who were even now being tortured and slaughtered, something she could prevent from happening if she distracted Voldemort enough for them to finish the mission she'd failed. If she had to give up one unborn child, even if it was hers and Draco's, in order to save thousands…it was a choice she had to make.

"I'm sorry, Draco. But I can't let this stop me. I can't risk the lives of thousands for my own life and the possibility of one other."

He gaped at her and grabbed her wrists roughly, pulling them to his chest so that they were eye-to-eye.

"You're telling me you would sacrifice the life of our child for this?" he growled dangerously. She closed her eyes, not able to stand the hurt in his gaze.

 _Please, forgive me for this…_ "Yes."

He threw her bodily away from him and stormed around the room. Clutching her stomach, Hermione contemplated the situation. She was numb, her overwhelmed mind unable to take in any more. How much suffering could one person endure before they shattered?

If he never forgave her, it was a pain she would have to bear. She knew her decision was a heinous and loathsome one and she knew she would burn in the very depths of hell tomorrow when she finally succumbed.

Unable to bear the weight of her anguish any longer, Hermione sank to her heels and clutched her stomach, silently begging whatever may be in there for forgiveness.

...

Draco fumed, pacing the small dank room. This was ridiculous, bloody, fucking, ridiculous.

He couldn't believe her, what the hell was she thinking? He slammed his fist against the wall next to the window. He saw her jump in the corner of his eye but he didn't go to her, not yet. He had to get himself under control and right now he couldn't stand to look at her.

He had thought his plan would be fool-proof. He had thought, _known,_ that Hermione Granger would _never_ put the life of a child at risk. _Especially_ her own! How could she possibly…?

Her words rang through his head and he knew with a sinking feeling that she was right. She _was_ the best weapon against the Dark Lord they had, he'd seen to it personally. She was much more likely to cause a long and brutal distraction than he. And if she succeeded, if the Order destroyed the Horcrux, Potter would have free reign…it could all be over tomorrow. Thousands if not millions of lives would be saved. What were two lives against the rest of the world?

Draco was tormented with thoughts of her growing large and round with their child, her bringing home bags of toys and little clothes, picking out names. No, he didn't really want a kid right now, but he'd always thought of being a father one day. And the thought of Hermione being the mother of his child swelled his heart with emotion. It would be beautiful…

But he knew as well as she that there was no way out. He had hung her noose himself only hours ago. The plan would go forth, regardless of the possibility of her condition. There was no way of stopping it now.

In his peripheral vision he saw Hermione sitting quietly on the floor in the middle of the drab room, her arms wrapped tightly around her stomach, her head bowed in grief.

His heart ached. He didn't know what to say to her. He knew the decision probably destroyed her even more than him, but she'd made the painful choice for the sake of humanity, just as she always did.

He searched for something, a _nything,_ to say to break the tension, so he settled on something he'd thought of during their struggle in the hallway.

"Where were you going?"

"W-what?" she asked, sitting up and turning to him. "What do you mean? When?"

"When I caught you in the hallway. Where were you going?"

There was a slight pause. "To get a drink of water. I couldn't sleep."

"The kitchen is the other way, princess."

"How do you know?" she demanded, glaring at him suspiciously and rising slowly to her feet. "Have you been here before? Spying on us?"

He sneered. "Of course you would think that, my suspicious Gryffindor. But no, I have never stepped foot upon these premises before tonight. This place is still safe from Death Eater eyes, I assure you."

"Then how did you get here, passed the barriers?"

"You are eluding the question. Where were you going? Who was going to benefit from your midnight escapades?"

She eyed him for a moment. "Harry," she said finally. "I was going to sleep with Harry."

His blood boiled. So she was shagging the Golden Boy now? That had happened fast enough. She'd gotten one taste of sex and now she was screwing bloody _Potter!_

"It's not like that!" she said suddenly, her eyes wide, waving her hands as if she could swipe away her declaration.

"Pray tell, what _is_ it like, then?" he growled dangerously.

"It's not what you're thinking, we're not like that. We just sleep together!"

He snorted derisively, his arms crossing to keep him from grabbing her and shaking her. This was just getting better and better. Had what they'd shared meant _nothing?_ Had she really moved on that quickly?

"Not like _that!_ Goodness, are all men this sick minded?" she snapped, shaking her head. "Look, we both have trouble sleeping; it's just this thing we do. Sometimes when things are bad we just…hold each other. Nothing has ever come of it, I don't think about Harry that way and he's in love with Ginny. We're just friends! You're the only man I've ever wanted to do those things with."

Draco looked away from her, jealousy burning through him at the thought of Potter holding the woman he loved, and on this, her last night on earth. _He_ should have been the one she turned to.

But _he_ hadn't been there. _He_ had made damn sure she knew how much he loathed her.

"Draco, look at me," she said gently, stepping forward and easing her arms around him.

Struggling with himself, Draco looked down into her beautiful face. She was just as exquisite as he remembered, her brown waves flowing loosely around her face down to her waist, her dark eyes wide and bright, the thin fabric of her nightgown clinging to her every curve.

How had he possibly thrown this away? He knew he had done it for her safety, for her welfare. But it didn't matter, not tonight. Tomorrow he would find the strength to snub her as was necessary, but tonight he didn't have to hide anything from her. They could just be and they could pretend it would be like this forever.

He wrapped his arms around her and dragged her into his chest, holding her as he'd longed to since the moment he'd turned away from her. He buried his face into her hair, memorizing. Then she pulled away enough to see his face, her gaze serious.

"I've never felt about anyone the way I feel about you. I've never met someone who could make my heart flutter the way it does when you look at me or make my body come alive with just a touch." She smiled, her hand coming to his chest. "You've brought out in me things I didn't even know were there, things I didn't even know I could feel. I was numb before I met you and for the first time, I feel alive. There's no one else, Draco. I love you."

He swore his heart stopped. He couldn't move, couldn't breathe. She loved him… Hermione _loved_ him.

His brow furrowed with confusion when her face fell and she looked down to the hand toying with his shirt on his chest. Guilt assailed him as she continued.

"And even if I make a fool of myself and am imagining your feelings for me are reciprocated, I can't go into that battle tomorrow without telling you how much I love you. Irrevocably, no matter how wrong it is or the differences between us. Because in spite of all that we… well, I mean I _thought_ we'd found something, something real. Surely you felt it too?"

She looked back up at him with such longing he nearly knelt before her, ready to beg her to forgive him for the things he said that day on the field.

"Yes," he choked out. "It's real. It's real, Hermione. I only said those things because I thought it was for the best, I thought that if you hated me then it would make it easier for you to move on. But I can't pretend anymore. I love you too, Hermione. I've loved you since the moment you jumped onto those blasted gallows, all wild-eyed and screaming." They both laughed softly at this memory and her eyes shone with happiness as he cupped her cheek. "You've helped show me the man I want to be. You floored me at every turn with your strength and courage, your selflessness and understanding. You fought for me when no one else ever had, even after everything I put you through. How could I _not_ love you? You've given me the strength to finally become the man I was meant to be. I never would have found him without you."

Hermione smiled. "I've always known you were better than what you made yourself out to be. And now I've seen in it your eyes and your actions. You are more than a devious man's pawn. You are your own man, with your own mind and a beautiful heart that's been buried for far too long. I am so proud of you, Draco."

Draco was broken. How could she have seen the fear he'd held of never being his own man when he himself had just realized it? How could she understand him so deeply?

Because she loved him. His heart swelled and shattered simultaneously in his chest, a lump rising to his throat. She had completely unraveled him and allowed his true self to come forth as the person he really was. Never, until the day that he died, would he forget the words she had said tonight. She loved _him,_ not the outward projection of Draco Malfoy, but who he really was. For that, he would always be indebted to her.

Unable to come up with the words to say how he felt, he captured her lips instead, drowning himself in her, telling her wordlessly how much she'd moved him, begging her forgiveness for his words in the field. He held her close, their bodies melding together until he was unable to discern whether they were two separate people or one complete person. Because now, with her, he was whole.

He released her lips and pulled his face away from hers just far enough to look into her eyes.

"How am I supposed to just let tomorrow happen?" he whispered harshly. "How do you expect me to just let you go?"

She turned her head and kissed his palm, her eyes closing. "Because you have to. It's the way it has to be."

"Goddamn it, Hermione! This is bullshit and you know it!"

She pulled away and turned from him. "I don't want to fight. I can't handle it…not now. I only have one night left, can't we just…be together?"

She was right, he was being an inconsiderate prick. Again. He could only imagine the turmoil she was going through and here he was taking his frustration out on her. This wasn't her fault, none of it, and yet it was her burden to bear.

Draco walked up to her and wrapped his arms around her, pulling her back against his chest. He laid his chin upon her shoulder and she turned to rest her cheek against his. She would never remember this night, so he could say what he needed to say without consequence so that if he lived through tomorrow he could die knowing that somewhere inside of Hermione, she knew his true feelings, even if he had to project others.

"Draco?"

"Hmm?"

"Kiss me."

He grinned, thinking about the day by the apple tree. Draco turned her around and lifted her face gently towards his. "With pleasure."

She whimpered softly in her throat as his lips teased hers. He could feel the subtle change in her body as she melted to his touch. He loved that he could do that to her, loved her reaction towards him, letting Draco know that she was as consumed as he.

Her hips pressed against his and she pulled him closer, deepening the kiss. She wanted much more than a kiss but she was not brazen enough to ask for it specifically. He loved that about her, that innocence. It was more intoxicating than a vat of Firewhiskey.

He slowly walked her back towards the old bed which he was sure probably hadn't been slept in or washed for at least 20 years. With a wave of his hand the bedclothes were pristine and he laid her upon it, reveling at her contented sigh as he began his expedition of her body. He stroked her long, soft arms which snaked around his neck and played with the fine hairs curling there while he moved down to her collarbone. Her breath caught when he indulged himself with her warm, soft breasts, gently nipping the tips over the fabric of the gown. She arched up at his touch and he growled low in his throat.

Grabbing the bottom of the thin nighty, he pulled it up and over her head in one swift move. She lay before him bare, perfect. Never had he seen such an exquisite body, every subtle curve begging for his touch.

And touch he did.

Diving in, he retook her breasts making her hiss and grip his shoulders. He bathed them in his appreciation before moving to nibble down her ribcage. He inhaled her scent, tasted her sweet flesh, emblazoning every piece of her into his mind as he placed hot, open mouthed kisses on her stomach. He came to the pink scar on her side and laved it, sending up a silent thanks to Alvida for saving her that day so that he could have her now.

When he felt her shove at his robes he stepped back to discard of them and realized this was no setting for her last night here on earth. With a snap of his finger the candelabras went out and a quick flick of his wrist later, twenty tallow candles floated into the air above them, their soft light accentuating Hermione's flawless form. She gasped and he realized that he had never made any kind of romantic gesture before. All their sexual encounters had been in a somewhat less-than-perfect circumstance.

Grinning to himself, Draco waved a hand over her body and blood red rose petals floated from his fingertips onto her skin. He followed their trail with his lips as she sighed and smiled, her eyelids heavy with desire. Standing again, he slowly divested himself of his shirt while she watched, lifting herself onto her elbows for a better view, the rose petal falling around her.

"Like what you see?" he asked sultrily, his voice low.

She nodded shyly and rose before him to work on his belt buckle, her eyes never leaving his. Tortuously slow, she worked the leather apart and pulled it through the loops of his slacks, the slight friction turning him on even more. He felt his member stand at attention when she threw the belt to the floor and smiled up at him with dark, seductive eyes. He swallowed the lump gathering in his throat when she undid his trousers and skimmed his throbbing erection as she slid the zipper down. Pushing his pants and briefs down to puddle on the floor at his feet, she took him up and stroked him with her small, deft hand. He shuddered and thought briefly about removing his shoes and socks but when she wrapped both hands around him in a tight grip the thought slid out of his mind like water through cracks in a sieve.

She pumped him slowly as he had shown her, her eyes watching his reactions intently. He was incredibly turned on by her sudden brazen nature, completely forgetting that tonight was supposed to be about her.

"It's so much softer than I would have thought, and hard at the same time. I've never felt anything so incredibly provocative before in my life," she purred.

Her voice and words made his skin crawl with delight. His senses were sharper than normal, every slight movement or sound arousing him even more. He shuddered when she sank to her knees. She seemed somewhat unsure of what she was doing and he allowed her to continue as she pleased as long as she never stopped. Visions of her plump lips settling around his cock made it jerk slightly in her hand.

"Can I-" she asked timidly, nodding to his member. "Like you did to me?"

He recalled how she'd writhed beneath his assault the day they had left and he grew even harder if it was possible.

"Gods yes!" he rasped. Tentatively she kissed the head, her soft lips teasing his sensitive skin. He allowed her to explore innocently and his mind went white with want. How could someone be so innocent when they were performing an act as carnal as this?

She explored him methodically, as if he were a new textbook she'd just bought, kissing and licking, fondling and stroking, driving him mad with lust as he imagined how her mouth would feel sealed around his raging erection.

When she finally did so he groaned like a dying man and saw stars. Nothing had ever felt as good. Her hot cavern surrounded him and the pressure of her sucking threatened to topple him over the edge. When he felt the tip of her tongue flit over the slit at the top of his head his hips jerked involuntarily. How did she know to do that? Merlin, she was going to kill him!

He realized belatedly that his hands were fisted tightly in her hair and loosened his grip only to renew it with more force when her hand joined her mouth and began to pump him in rhythm. He moaned loudly and his eyes rolled in his head as his concentration waned, leaving only the agonizing lust he had for this witch.

Just before he lost complete control he wrenched her away and tossed her on the bed, giving as she'd given, and burying his face in her cunt before she had time to catch her breath which hitched in pleasure. She moaned as he had when he shoved two fingers deep inside her, pumping her towards madness while his tongue worked her swollen hood. Her hips thrust towards his mouth and he went wild, sucking at her and lapping her juices, her taste and scent driving him senseless. He brought her quickly to climax then slid up her body and covered her mouth with his own in a hasty kiss in which they tasted each other, heightening the sensations. Lifting her hips with one hand and guiding his cock with the other, he pressed into her hot, wet passage. She was so unbelievably tight it made his eyes roll to the back of his head as her moans filled his ears and begged him on.

He took her hard and fast, the both of them rushing towards release. Hermione's hands drove him insane as they traveled his body and her teeth and nails dug into any part of him that could get purchase. He planted hot kisses on her neck and ear as he pulled her thighs to her chest, increasing the friction, while wrapping his hands behind her back and hooking them over her shoulders so he could pound her even harder. His name fell from her lips over and over and Draco thought he would die just from the sound. He felt his scrotum tighten and he drove into her harder, faster, until she was screaming beneath him. She climaxed again, her walls clenching around him and he lost control, coming with a harsh, guttural yell deep inside her.

Releasing his taut fingers from her probably bruised shoulders he collapsed on top of her, his lungs working double time to bring in much needed air. Hermione gasped beneath him and he knew he was too heavy, knew he should get off her, but he couldn't. His body wouldn't listen to him.

Draco all but purred with appreciation at the feel of her nimble fingers weaving through his hair. The simple touch was so intimate it grounded him and he wrapped his arms tightly around her, their sweaty bodies sticking to one another. He roused himself enough to lift onto one elbow and look into her tired face. A half smile still lingered at the corner of her lips and her eyes drooped, the dark circles beneath them prominent in the candle light. He suddenly felt guilty for keeping her up, she obviously needed sleep, but he couldn't get himself to leave her. If things went ironically right tomorrow he would never again have the bliss of sharing a moment such as this with her.

Draco trailed the back of his fingers across her pink cheek and tucked sweat-curled tendrils of hair behind her ear. If only…

"Draco?" she murmured.

"Hmm?" His fingers lazily skimmed down her neck to her collar bone.

"What was in that potion you gave me?"

His hand froze just above its intended destination, the beautiful peaks beckoning to his immobile digits. He had hoped she would forget about it. He thought vaguely about lying but knew it would serve no purpose.

"The potion I gave you will erase your memory from the moment you took it until you fall asleep," he said heavily, knowing he was about to have the wrath of Hades unleashed upon him. "When you wake up tomorrow you won't remember any of this."

 _"What?"_ she screeched shrilly, shoving at him abruptly and causing him to topple to the floor. He threw up hands to protect himself when a rainfall of fists fell upon him.

"Why would you do that? You _prat!_ You had no _right!_ What purpose would it serve? _Why would you do that?"_

Grabbing her wrists to cease the tumble of fists on his now sore shoulder he stood and lifted her with him, shoving her back onto the bed and pinning her hands above her. She bucked and tried to throw him off of her, expletives falling from her mouth, her cheeks red with fury, her eyes drenched in pain.

"Hold on a minute, will you? Let me explain!" When she had calmed down enough he continued. "I didn't have a choice, it was the only way I could see you. We had to do it. Tomorrow, you won't remember that I came or that I love you or that I wish I could spend the rest of my life with you. Tomorrow you will remember the cruel things I said to you when we parted and still hate me. You will be able to do what you have to do because you won't know that you might be pregnant or that if you die, my soul will as well. You won't be in danger of Voldemort finding out about us and using it against you because all he will see is the pain I left in you when I had to push you away. I'm so sorry, Hermione, but this is the way it had to be."

She stared at him in silence as her eyes welled and a tear slid down her cheek. He kissed it away softly and she closed her eyes at the touch. He could see the effort it took for her to swallow back the pain and when she finally spoke her words were harsh and thick with emotion.

"Who's 'we?'"

"Snape."

She shot up again, knocking him back, but this time he was ready and landed on his feet. He allowed her to shove him away as she ranted and raved.

 _"Snape?_ You told _Snape_ about us? That lying sack of _shite!_ He knew all along? Why would you tell him?"

"I didn't, he figured it out on his own and used Legilimency on me to verify it. I was weak at the time that he did it, I wasn't able to fight him off."

"Weak? Why were you weak?"

Draco couldn't meet her eyes. He didn't want to tell her about what had happened the first few days he had been here.

"It's not important. All that matters is-"

"They tortured you didn't they?" He said nothing and he watched her fury mount. _"Didn't they?"_

"Yes, alright! Now will you just let it go? It's not important!"

She glared at him. "It is to me. I'll kill them, all of them! I'll see them dead before-"

"You won't remember any of this tomorrow! That's the point! I can tell you what I have to and tomorrow you will go in there without the bias of my words."

He watched her face fall as realization kicked in, her fury melting into grief. She was quiet for a long time as she gathered her thoughts.

"You said your soul would die with me."

"It will," he said hoarsely as his heart clenched at the thought. Tears flooded her cheeks as she looked up into his gaze and he had to fight not to match hers with his own.

"I wanted to spend the rest of my life with you, too," she whispered. Draco dragged the wretched love of his life back into his arms where they clutched each other fiercely. Their damned souls ached and Draco gripped her harder, breathing her in, wishing with everything he had that tomorrow would just disappear.

"I hate you for taking this away from me," she breathed against his chest.

"I know."

She sobbed quietly and he laid his cheek against the top of her head, sharing in her sorrow. There was nothing he could say to fix the situation. The die was cast; they were in this for better or for worse. Tomorrow he would turn his back on his former life forever. He would stand amongst those who loathed him for the horrible man he'd been and fight the men and women he'd stood aside for his entire life. He'd watch Hermione walk to her death with her head held high, allow the Dark Lord to torture her endlessly until the snake was killed, and pray to every deity that ever existed that she would somehow survive.

While her tears subsided he continued to hold her, wishing the night would never end.

"Hermione, there are a lot of things I regret, but breaking that damn necklace isn't one of them."

"And I'll never regret hacking up some poor, innocent guard to save your stupid, reckless neck."

Draco chuckled softly and closed his eyes against the impossibly cruel mistress of time.

...

XOXO

RynStar15


	25. Chapter 25

Hermione stroked Draco's fine hair from where he'd settled them on the bed a while ago. A part of her mourned that she would never remember what had transpired this night, but she knew Draco was right. If she went tomorrow knowing the things she did now she didn't think she could go through with it. No matter how hard she tried to be, she was not as brave as Harry or Moody or Tonks. She never would be.

Her stomach clenched when she thought of another life that might possibly be snuffed out before it had even begun. A child, _her_ child, a child made with Draco. What if…?

Hermione stopped herself. She couldn't think like that. It would never be. Whether there was a baby in there or not she would be dead soon. She mourned for the life of a child who would never get a chance, even though she didn't know if there even _was_ one. At least no one else would know. No one but Draco that was.

She forced herself to think of happy things, of the beautiful moments she'd shared with Draco tonight. Her heart swelled at his words, his comfort, the knowledge that what they'd shared had been real. He loved her. She'd never been happier in her entire life as she had been when she'd heard his admission. He had grown so much in the last few weeks it was inconceivable. She was so proud of his drastic change, finally finding the man he wanted to be.

And he'd come to their side, he was helping them win. She glanced at the Dark Mark emblazoned on his arm whose hand was currently wrapped in hers, a Muggle-born's. She smiled, knowing that he was going to fight the Death Eaters alongside them, that he was going to fight for her, that when this was all over, everyone would see the man he truly was and he would have a chance at a wonderful future.

Warm and comforted, she felt herself drifting off.

"Hey! No falling asleep!" Draco nudged her with his shoulder and she groaned grumpily. She was so tired, she'd barely slept since they'd arrived and it had to be well after midnight. She would be woken in a few short hours. She knew the moment she drifted to sleep she would forget about Draco and her heart clenched at the thought, but she'd never know once she woke what she'd missed. What did it matter anymore?

"Come on, a few more hours. That's all we have. Do you really want to spend that time sleeping?"

 _Yes._

She was being lifted and sent unceremoniously to the floor where her bum and the hardwood met acquaintance.

 _"Ow!"_ she complained, lifting herself onto her elbow and glaring at Draco. Well, she was awake _now._ "What was that for?"

He grinned and crossed his arms haughtily. "You wouldn't get up."

"That's no reason for you to go throwing me on the floor!"

"I didn't _throw_ you, I gently _dropped_ you."

"Same thing! My bum still hurts either way!" She rubbed her aching rear as she got to her feet. Imitating his arrogant demeanor she crossed her arms and lifted one eyebrow.

"Well? You got me up. Now what was so important?"

"This." In an instant he had her in his arms, kissing her deeply. He twirled her around and shoved her backward until her back hit the wall and she moaned in desire. It was so hot when he did this…

His hands were in her hair, gripping and pulling her towards his mouth so he could plunder hers more thoroughly. She loved when he took control and exerted his strength and need for her. But right now, she wanted something else. She wanted the power she had felt when she had taken him into her mouth, that absolute control over him. She wanted to show him just how much she desired him. Placing her hands on his chest she shoved him away and, knowing she couldn't overcome him with physical force, threw him against the wall with a wave of her hand.

"Hey!" he protested but she pounced him, jumping into his arms and locking herself around his waist, taking his mouth as he had taken hers. She remembered the time when he had shoved her against that tree and a shiver ran up her spine. She felt herself growing wetter by the minute while she took charge and trailed her lips down the side of his neck like he did to her and realizing that she took great pleasure in this part of his anatomy. Drawing his earlobe into her mouth she smiled proudly when he hissed in pleasure and she felt his enormous erection pressing up towards her sex. She rubbed against him wantonly, loving his growl of approval as he gripped her bare rear and pulled her tighter to his chest, her wet lips dragging along his length, exciting them both.

Hermione took his mouth again, gripping the hair at the back of his neck as she nibbled on his lips. From the sounds he was emitting he seemed to be thoroughly enjoying this new brazen side of her, so she decided to move on to round two.

Lowering herself down she grabbed him by the hand and dragged him to the bed where she shoved him onto his back and crawled on top of him. Smiling at her bright idea, she snapped her fingers and his arms yanked above his head and glued themselves to the bed.

"What the-?"

"Gods, I love you Draco," she purred before capturing his lips again and using her hands to revere his amazing body. She drew cherishing hands over bulging biceps and down tight abs. His skin was like velvet, so much softer than her own. She knew she was a very lucky witch indeed to have such a fine specimen of a man. She showed him how much pleasure she took from his body as her lips proceeded down his chest to his tight pink nipples where she sucked and made him growl. She loved that she could do that, make him want her as much as she wanted him.

"Merlin, Hermione! You're going to kill me! Let me touch you!"

"Nuh-uh-uh. Not until I've had my fun."

"Then get on with it, will you? This could be classified as torture, you know!"

She grinned saucily and continued on, her lips traveling ever slower down to his very erect shaft. Flicking her tongue over the slit on the top, she giggled as he moaned and strained against the invisible bonds she had placed upon him. Still, she didn't give him what he wanted. She licked the weeping tip clean, moving to his hips that jutted against his skin, nipping before laving her tongue along the v-line of his hips. She loved this particular part of his body and took her time praising it before lowering to his heavy sack. She'd never thought about kissing this part of a man before, but she wanted to taste all of him, so she tenderly suckled the loose skin while Draco whimpered above her. He cried out as she took one aching testicle gently into her mouth and his body shuddered from her assault.

When she had finished this exploration she gently kissed the base of his member. He keened above her and she looked up at him sultrily and raised an eyebrow at him.

"Bloody hell, Hermione! Do you want me to beg?" he growled. His face was red and sweaty, his angelic blonde hair plastered to his temples. She loved the way he looked just now, so crazed with need for her that his carefully erected shield had all but shattered, leaving his emotions bare for her to see.

Enjoying the game, Hermione smirked and nodded and he immediately commenced.

"Please, Hermione, dear Merlin! Put your mouth on me, suck me, _please!_ I need you!"

Satisfied, she took him into her mouth and felt a tingle of pleasure as he threw his head back and groaned. She sucked him harder, pulling her mouth up and down him as she kept the suction making him whimper and writhe, his hips rising to her ministrations.

As a personal conquest she tried to see how much of his member she could take into her mouth. She was disappointed when she only managed about three-quarters, but figured he was _very_ large so it was probably an irrational goal.

Draco, however, hadn't seemed to mind at all. He groaned like a dying man and for the first time tonight she wondered if he had set up a Silencing Charm. She figured he had since they otherwise would have woken the house by now.

"Hermione, please! Let me touch you! I need you…"

She debated, cocking her head while she looked on at his desperate features. "Well, since you asked so nicely…"

She removed the charm and she was instantly lifted from her position and thrown onto the bed where she laughed and then gasped as he entered her swiftly. It was her turn to moan as he pumped into her deeply, his sweaty face directly above her own. Placing his thumb on her sensitive clit he worked her and brought her quickly to orgasm, the waves of pleasure making her buck beneath his onslaught.

When she finally floated back to earth she gave him a mind shattering kiss before using her magic once more to throw him onto the bed. Feeling like a complete harlot she slithered on top of him, enjoying the sight of his bewildered face. She didn't know if people usually did this or not but it was something she had thought about trying during her long nights alone. Positioning herself above his hips he groaned before she had even touched him.

"Yes, Hermione, _gods_ yes!"

Steadying his dripping member with her fingers she sank onto him and reveled in the new feeling of fullness. The difference was immense. He moaned beneath her and Hermione had trouble catching her breath at this new sensation. His large hands grabbed her hips and began to show her how to move. Obviously, he had done this before.

Once she got the rhythm she moved on her own, whipping her hips down onto him and making him grunt with every plunge. She cried out as every thrust rubbed against that delicious part of her that made her eyes rolls. Draco murmured dirty words, encouraging her towards her orgasm and she was oddly turned on by it.

"Gods, you're so wet! You're so fucking perfect, you dirty little book worm. That's right, love, fuck me, just like that, just like that."

She moaned at his words, more turned on than she'd ever been in her life. She felt herself getting close again and she rammed her hips down onto him until she was screaming, allowing him to take over as he thrust up into her, dragging out the sensations until she was slumped, shuddering against him. When her eyes opened again he was grinning up at her.

"Gods, you are so fucking beautiful," Draco growled, tucking her hair behind her ear and kissing her glistening forehead. "Did you like that?"

She nodded shyly with a smile. Draco himself was grinning like a fool.

"Want me to show you something else?"

Excited, she nodded again and he lifted her off of him. She allowed him to move her but when he rolled her to her stomach and lifted her onto her elbows and knees, she started to get some second thoughts.

"Draco, I don't think-"

But he was already pressing into her and her words drowned in ecstasy.

Oh. Sweet. _Merlin._

She swore he had grown twice his normal, very large size. When he began to pump slowly into her she could do nothing but groan and grab at the bedclothes like a bitch in heat. Nothing had ever felt so good, so satisfying before. Soon, she was the one begging.

 _"Gods, yes!_ Draco! Harder, harder, please! _Oh, gods!"_

He gave her what she wanted, shoving his cock deep into her so that she felt every luscious inch. He slammed home over and over, harder and faster as she keened uncontrollably. Hermione couldn't contain herself. She couldn't think but for the immense pleasure, it was all-consuming. She couldn't see, couldn't breathe, completely enraptured in the sensations Draco showed her. Her throat was hoarse from screaming and when he leaned forward, his hand gently encircling her throat she was overcome.

Waves of white hot heat slammed into her over and over, thrusting her from the corporeal world into a dimension of pure bliss. She thought she'd never stop and when she felt him come with her, shuddering and yelling, she came again. His fingers contracted tightly as he jerked against her, lengthening their ecstasy, drawing it out like water from a well until they were both shuddering in its wake.

Worn, Hermione slumped forward bringing Draco down with her. Panting, she waited until her heart slowed and then she was laughing, completely and utterly sated. She heard Draco behind her start to rumble with it as well and he flipped her over and kissed her, both of them still chuckling.

"Did you enjoy that, my little Gryffindor princess?" he drawled arrogantly, his signature smirk lighting up his face. Their sex-slickened bodies were wrapped around each other and Hermione rubbed her flustered cheek against his palm as he tucked sweaty tendrils behind her ear.

She smiled, trying to hide her embarrassed blush. "You know I did! I just didn't realize people did stuff like…like…"

He laughed again and she hit him playfully on his chest. "Ow! What? It's not my fault you were so sheltered!" he grinned maniacally, leaning forward to capture her lips. "Don't you worry, my love, I'll show you all you ever wanted to know."

At that, she sobered. Her face fell and she couldn't stop it, because what he had said would never transpire. He would not get to show her all the different things lovers did together. She would never wake to his tongue inside her or fall asleep in his arms, sated and flushed. She would never again writhe beneath him in desire or watch his face light up as she tried new and emboldened way to please him. She'd never grow round with their child or feel the weight of their sleeping babe in her arms.

"Oh, Hermione," he croaked as the realization of his words hit him. "I'm sorry, I'm so sorry, I didn't mean-"

"It's alright," she whispered, stalling him. She couldn't stand the apology, the reminder of the pain they shared. She drew circles over the hairs on his chest, not able to meet his eye. "Things would have been great, you know. We could have worked, you and I. Don't you think?"

He tilted her face up to his and the devastation behind his eyes burned through her. "Yeah. Yeah, we could have made it work."

She grabbed his hand and they looked at each other for a long while, both seeing the future they would never have. "I love you, Hermione," he croaked gently. "I'll love you until I die, and I'll keep loving you forever after."

She nodded and felt the tears well again but she forced them back, burying her face in his shoulder She'd done enough crying. He folded her into his embrace and she closed her eyes, listening to the sounds of his heart beneath her ear. She could feel herself drifting off for the second time that night before she felt his embrace tighten, felt his hand tremble slightly as it rubbed down her back.

"You hungry?" he asked, his voice strained.

"What?"

"Are you hungry?"

She looked up into his face and understood immediately what had brought this on. She saw the fear shining behind his eyes and knew he was trying to keep her awake, to drag out their short time together just a little bit longer. Hermione was exhausted, but she couldn't deny him anything, so she acquiesced.

"Close your eyes."

Her brow wrinkled curiously. "Draco, what-"

"Do you have to question everything? I'm not going to bite you or anything! Well," he smirked devilishly. "Maybe a little. Just close your eyes, will you?"

Glaring at him playfully she did as he so impolitely asked. She heard movement and then he was tugging at her arms, pulling her to her feet.

"Don't open your eyes, not yet."

"Alright, alright!" she giggled. What in the world was he up to?

"What are you doing?" she asked breathlessly as he trailed soft kisses on her shoulder, lifting her long hair from his perusal, as he moved to her shoulder blade, the nape of her neck…

"You can open your eyes now."

He positioned himself behind her, still kissing, and she gasped.

It was beautiful. A small round table had appeared before her with a single red rose in a blue vase in the middle. Glistening china adorned with intricate carvings around the edges sat side-by-side. Deep red rose petals like the ones he had graced over her body hours ago decorated the glossy cherry wood table and candles and fireflies floated over the setting.

On a large silver platter lay rolled slices of ham with a cream filling, small triangles of various types of sandwiches, chocolates, grapes, strawberries, French bread with pads of butter, petite fours, stuffed mushrooms, deviled eggs, tomato and brie on wheat crackers. Goblets of wine and pumpkin juice accompanied their plates and on them, dancing nymphs promenaded through a forest that looked strangely like the one they had trekked through together.

She was breathless. Things like this didn't happen in real life. She felt like she was in a fairy tale. She never would have taken Draco for the romantic type, and that had been just fine with her. She'd never had a romantic gesture in her life, the closest thing she could think of was when Viktor had snuck the two of them to Madame Puddifoot's and she'd nearly gagged at the sight of the bright pink tea shop.

This, however, was nothing like that banal little shop, and it was made with such love and devotion that Hermione was momentarily speechless, having to struggle for words.

"Draco!" she finally exclaimed breathlessly, completely astonished by his extravagant display of love. "This is, I mean…Draco it's _beautiful._ You didn't have to do all this!"

His arms snaked around her. His lips caressed her ear, making her shiver.

"You deserve it. Go on, sit down." He hurried around her and pulled out a chair. Smiling, she sat and he pushed her towards the table and handed her another single rose, kissing her knuckles as she took it, making her belly stir. She inhaled the soft scent as he settled in the chair next to her and passed her a goblet of pumpkin juice.

"You must be thirsty after that little escapade," he said saucily, quirking his brow.

Blushing and smiling she laid down her beautiful gift, took the goblet and drank deeply because, well, maybe she _was_ incredibly thirsty. He chuckled and sat back in his elegant chair bringing a strawberry to his lips and taking a sexy bite out of it. _Wait,_ she told herself. _Eating food isn't sexy…is it?_

It turned out that when it came to Draco, it was. She watched him, enthralled as he grabbed a hunk of bread and slathered butter on it. The sight of the silver butter handle moving against the bread was…erotic. He seemed to know what he was doing to her because a signature smirk feathered across his opulent face. He brought the bread to her lips and she had some difficulty taking a bite. He waited patiently and plucked a grape from the stem, bringing it slowly to his lips while she watched in a daze.

She couldn't believe it. She was turned on. _Again._ Merlin's beard, hadn't she had enough sex for one night?

Draco barked in laughter, nearly choking on the fruit in his mouth.

"What in the world is so funny?" she asked confusedly.

He shook his head, a grin threatening to force his cheeks off his face. Shaking her head at the unfathomable antics of men she was just thankful he couldn't read her thoughts.

"I wouldn't be so sure of that, princess."

Hermione stilled, looking up at him slowly. _"What?"_

Draco paled. "Er-"

 _"Draco Malfoy are you using Legilimency on me?"_

He looked like a cornered dog. "Er, well, technically…I might have."

 _"Technically?_ Either you did or you didn't!"

"I sort of did…"

She was so angry right now she thought she might burst an artery and not have to worry about Voldemort killing her tomorrow. The look on her face cowed him and he looked at her apologetically.

"Look, I'm sorry, it's just that Snape had me practicing it all night long and I just wanted to see if I could do it!" he explained contritely. "I honestly didn't even think it would work! It might have been better if I had asked your permission…"

"Might have been, my toe! I can't _believe_ you were doing that! You prick! You absolute prick!"

"Language!" Draco said surprised.

"Oh don't give me that! You-"

"Look, Hermione, I'm sorry, we both know I was acting like a prat. I won't do it again."

Fuming, Hermione crossed her arms over her still bare chest. So much for thinking he was romantic and sweet. He looked so penitent however that she couldn't help but forgive him.

"I suppose it _is_ rather impressive that you picked the art up so quickly…" she muttered and he grinned, making her heart flutter. Merlin, she was in deep.

"Well, I haven't exactly figured out how to access memories yet," he confessed and looked at her deviously. "Mind if I-?"

 _"No."_

He chuckled and put up his hands in surrender. "Fine, fine!"

She surrendered to his good humor and took her first sip of sweet wine, finding it surprisingly delicious.

Hermione realized belatedly that Draco was nuzzling her shoulder and placing kisses on her arm, up to her neck and ear. Her breath caught and she nearly dropped the glass in her hand, but Draco's Quidditch skills snatched it deftly before damage was done and set it on the table without stopping his destruction of her.

Her body shimmered in delight as his tongue swirled over her skin, his warm breath following and causing her to shiver with desire. When he pulled away she looked at him with questioning eyes. He simply handed her a ham roll and told her to eat.

When a bit of the cream cheese ended up on the corner of her mouth he darted forward and licked it off before taking her lips in his own. She melted and began to wrap her arms around his neck for more but he tore away and pressed a strawberry to her lips. She bit into it sensuously as he had. His eyes darkened and she took another bite, allowing a bit of juice to dribble onto her lip where she flicked it away with her tongue. When he growled and started forward she pushed him away, stating that she needed to eat.

Two could play at this game.

Back and forth it went until they were both so aroused they couldn't stand it. When Draco pulled her to her feet she felt slightly woozy from the wine but he lifted her lovingly and settled her gently on the bed, his eyes shining with adoration. Brushing her hair from her face he gazed at her longingly.

"Thank you for showing me what it is to love," he whispered, causing her heart to swell as he took her lips, showing her the depth of his gratitude. They made love slowly, gently, lithe limbs tangling and warm bodies writhing. Soft hands caressed smooth skin and sharp teeth nipped gently. He soon had her so enraptured that there was nothing more than them, right here, in this moment.

His pillow lips trailed over her hot skin, landing on her pebbled nipples. He brought first one into his mouth, then the other, lighting a flame within her which he stoked by taking his lips down over her stomach where he admired the contours and dips. What she had first thought was the wine she now realized was simply Draco. He made her dizzy and faint when he touched her, looked at her. His very smell was intoxicating and she felt drugged as it surrounded her, as _he_ surrounded her.

He didn't leave a bit of her to waste and when she took her time admiring him, she placed a hand over his heart. There, there was where she would lie forever. When her body had left this place she would forever reside here, in him. She laid a gentle kiss on her final resting place before taking his mouth and discovering what it was to be calm in the face of death. She would not fear as long as he was there.

Hot breath, fine hair, calloused hands. He touched every part of her and when he was buried deep inside her he held there, the two of them clinging onto what they had found. She forgot that she was just one person, one single person in the world, and knew now that she was really a part of two. When they moved, they moved together, on the same plane, in sync with one another.

Their eyes met and held, held through the motions of their bodies. There were no words to say, words could not come close to revealing what they felt in their hearts. Pleasure murmured over their heated bodies like a warm breeze, capturing the two in an embrace. They were locked together, two souls who had entwined on a deeper level than what life could see. They breathed together and Hermione squeezed the hands woven in hers. She didn't want to be anywhere in the world but here. All that mattered was the man moving within her.

When they came together they floated in a new universe of contentment and relief. They knew that even though they weren't meant in this world, there was a place for them beyond existence. These stolen moments would suffice for their love did not require the greed of a thousand years. Tonight was all they needed.

With Draco on top of her, Hermione smiled contently. They had said all they needed to, goodbyes were not necessary. Nestled against her love, she tucked this moment into her soul and finally allowed sleep to claim her.

...

XOXO

RynStar15


	26. Chapter 26

Draco's eyes were dry. He'd been trying to keep them open as much as possible, drinking in the sight of Hermione's sleeping form. He didn't think, just watched as her chest moved slowly up and down with each breath, her slightly parted lips separating when she blew out. He brushed back her hair for what felt like the millionth time and hugged her gently to him.

He had to go. It was that silent time when the world was caught between night and morning. The crickets had finally gone to bed and the birds had yet to rise. If he didn't leave now some early riser might catch him. Reluctantly, he untangled himself from her and stood, donning his clothes. He watched her for another minute before magicking her nightgown back onto her body so as not to wake her by jostling her. That would make for some sticky questions.

Carefully, Draco picked her up and cradled her into his arms. Unconsciously, she snuggled into his chest and he smiled. With a nod of his head the decorations of earlier were gone and the room was as it had been, dusty and untouched. He would be the only person to ever know what had happened between these four walls.

He opened the door with another nod and carried her silently down the stairs to where Snape had told him her room was and where he had found her sneaking out to see Potter. It still somewhat irked him that they were that close, but he couldn't hate Potter for comforting the love of his life in her final moments when he himself had failed at that particular task.

He crept slowly into the room so he wouldn't wake the youngest Weasley…Ginny. Yes, that was it. The covers of Hermione's bed opened themselves and he laid her gently beneath them and took them into his own hands to cover her. She nestled herself into the blankets and Draco knelt before her, drinking in the sight of her one last time. Stroking her soft cheek, he felt emotion welling inside of him.

Yeah, they could have worked.

Demanding that he not start sobbing again, he placed his lips gently on her forehead.

"I'll always be with you," he whispered and stood solemnly. He turned and was about to head for the door when he started. Two large hazel eyes were staring at him through the dark. The Weasley girl was awake.

He froze. He was terrified she would call an alarm and destroy the most pivotal night of his life. He put up his hands in surrender, showing that he was wandless (not that he needed it anymore, but she didn't know that.)

"Please…" he begged quietly.

She was silent and he was afraid she wouldn't listen. He started backing towards the door when he heard her soft voice.

"Your secret is safe with me."

He stopped short. His heart began to beat normally.

"Thank you," he whispered. She simply nodded her head and lay back down, her eyes still on him as if making sure that he indeed left. Turning on his heel he exited the house as stealthily as he had entered it. That had been far, far too close.

As soon as he stepped outside he looked up to Hermione's window and saw the red haired girl looking out at him. He lifted his hand in thanks and she waved back. With a swift turn he was gone.

When he landed in the street in front of his new godfather's house he took a deep breath of the crisp, cold morning air. A mist shrouded the area and he knew it would start raining soon. The morning would be creeping over the horizon and he didn't have much time to rest and gather up strength. He walked up to the house feeling like the world had suddenly dropped onto his chest.

He walked in quietly so as not to wake the older man and was surprised to find him in the study peering through a large, dusty book. Snape looked up at him and smiled almost sadly. He didn't say anything but handed him a four-hour sleeping potion and Draco took it greedily and headed up the stairs.

Flopping on the bed he had slept in the night before he waited for sleep to overcome him and tried not to think about what the day would bring.

...

Hermione woke to the sound of her voice being called. She whipped bolt upright and jumped out of bed terrified.

"What time is it? Is it time to go?" she asked frantically, scrambling for her wand.

"Hermione! Relax, it's only eight o'clock. We don't leave for Hogwarts for over an hour," Ginny calmed as she pulled a blue jumper over her head. "Mum just wanted to make sure you had time to eat breakfast and everything."

Hermione nodded, trying to settle her nerves. She rubbed her head which throbbed softly, a headache on its way. She was disoriented and wasn't sure why. It must have been because she had woken up so quickly. Turning around she made her bed like she had first thing every morning since she was four. She tucked in the corners just the way she liked it and went to her trunk for her clothes.

She tried to remember when she had finally fallen asleep and couldn't. She remembered getting up to go to Harry's room but she didn't remember ever arriving there. That was odd... She must have been more tired than she thought and just dreamed getting up. Or maybe she had sleep walked. She didn't recall ever doing that before but then again she _was_ inordinately stressed.

Checking to make sure everything was how she wanted it when Remus went through it as she had asked in her letter, she grabbed her wand and washed up in the bathroom before heading down to the basement kitchen.

The twins and Bill were playing a game of Gobstones at the far end of the table while Remus flipped through this morning's issue of the Daily Prophet at the other end. Mrs. Weasley was bustling around in the kitchen and they all turned when she walked in.

"Good morning, Hermione! Would you care for some tea with your breakfast?" Mrs. Weasley crooned, her voice overly cheerful. Hermione smiled, she really was the sweetest person she'd ever met.

"That sounds lovely," she replied and the motherly woman went back to preparing breakfast while putting a kettle on for tea. Remus turned in his seat and eyed her warily.

"How are you?" he asked.

"Fine. Really." And it was actually true. Deep inside, she felt resolved, as if she really were ready. The absolute fear had left her overnight during her deep sleep. She wondered for the first time if Molly might have drugged her pumpkin juice the night before…yes, that must have been why she had fallen asleep so suddenly. It would be like her to do that.

Remus looked her over for another moment and smiled at her, his mustache moving with the contours of his mouth.

"You always were a strong girl. Now you're a strong woman. You're doing a very noble thing, my dear. We are all very grateful."

Her heart swelled at his words. "Thank you," she replied. She sat down next to him and looked at him intently. She knew she could trust him, that he would understand why she had to do this and not argue with her.

"Remus...I...can you do me a favor?" she said lowly, glancing around to make sure no one was listening to their conversation.

"Of course Hermione, what is it?"

She looked down for a moment at her hands and pushed back the cuticle of her left thumb with the nail of the right one. Saying the words out loud would make everything seem very real.

"I have some letters…yours is on top. They are in the bottom drawer of my desk. Could you...could you give them to everyone for me?"

He stared at her for a long, endless moment. "Of course."

"And my things…Everything is in your note. They're in piles; I labeled them all and shrunk them into my trunk. If you could…distribute them…when everything is over…"

His warm, fatherly hand reached out for her own, stilling them in their nervous habit. "I will do as you ask under one condition."

She looked up. His pale blue eyes were somber but a comforting smile dusted his lips.

"Do not give up. No matter happens or how futile it seems, stay strong. That courage that put you into Gryffindor burns fiercely within you. All you have to do it find it and unleash it. I have faith in you, Hermione."

She swallowed thickly and nodded. "I won't give up. I promise." She would fight with everything she had.

"Good girl." He squeezed her hand tenderly.

"Oi! Hermione! We need another player! Come be on Fred's team!" George called from the other end of the table.

"Hey! Why are you putting her on _my_ team? She stinks at this game!" Fred complained with a wink towards Hermione.

"I believe you just answered your own question, dear brother," George said, rearranging the pieces to incorporate Hermione.

"Well, boys. We'll just see about that!" Hermione said smartly and strode over to where they were playing. She plopped down beside Fred and made the first move.

The boys stared at the table.

"That was a good move," Bill said grinning and George groaned while Fred laughed and put an arm around Hermione.

...

After everyone had breakfasted and been thoroughly fussed over by Mrs. Weasley, they lined up in front of the fireplace and one by one disappeared through it. Hermione stood between Ron and Fred and she leaned back into the warmth and comfort of Ron's hands as they rested on her shoulders. He squeezed them one last time and she stepped forward for her turn, taking a pinch of the green powder and throwing it into the fire. The flames leapt and she stepped into the embracing heat.

Locking eyes with Harry and Ron she yelled "Hogwarts!" and felt herself being sucked up as if through a vacuum. She landed none too gracefully on the hearth of the fireplace in the headmistress' office as McGonagall would be picking up the role when it was safe enough to re-open the school, a.k.a, after this vital battle. Depending on the outcome of today, they would decide whether Hogwarts would re-open its doors or lock them for good. Hermione desperately hoped she would be a part in making sure they stayed open.

She walked silently through the halls without waiting for the boys, taking back ways so as not to run into the others who were Flooing in. She just needed a few moments to herself to collect her thoughts.

Slipping through a tapestry that held a knight rescuing a reluctant maiden, she walked in on none other than Neville Longbottom. He was leaning against the wall, head down, hands deep in the pockets of his dark green robes. He looked up frightfully when she walked in. His eyes were red rimmed with unshed tears.

"Neville? What are you doing here?" she asked gently. "Why aren't you down in the Great Hall with everyone else?"

"I should ask you the same thing."

Then they both smiled weakly as they remembered a similar dialogue that had happened between them eight years ago.

"I just needed some fresh air," Hermione admitted. Neville nodded as if in agreement.

"Are you alright?" she asked him. He nodded vigorously again. Just as she was about to leave him to his thoughts, he spoke.

"I heard Harry talking to Professor Moody," he confessed to the floor.

"When?" she asked, stepping forward. She knew Neville always felt better when he talked things out. He had once told her that he trusted her with secrets he had told no one else. She felt honored, for he was a very sweet and smart individual who just needed a little room to grow. His skills had indeed bloomed exceedingly since they had begun Dumbledore's Army.

"Last week when we were searching for you."

Hermione's heart clenched at this. They'd all been through so much to find her, she was glad she could do something to help them in kind. "What did he say?"

Neville fiddled with something in his pocket and looked up at her. "Hermione…that prophecy could have been for me."

Hermione felt as if she had been hit with a blunt ax. She had forgotten, until now, that little detail that she and Harry had talked through several times. It was something that had always ate at him. A part of him wished Voldemort had chosen Neville and the other part hated himself for wishing something like that on his friend. Hermione was just sickened to her bones that either of these two wonderful people had been put in this position.

"I know."

Neville nodded, not concerned that she knew about that specific detail and hadn't told him. He knew why she hadn't and obviously didn't blame her.

"I have to help him."

"Neville, no, that isn't your fight! They'll need your help during the battle. This is Harry's fight now, for better or for worse. Voldemort marked him, even if he didn't know what he was doing at the time. At one time yes, it could have been you. But it's not anymore. Your path lies elsewhere."

"Hermione, you can't talk me out of it, not this time. I've always valued your advice and am humbled that you always lend me a hand, but you can't change my mind. It's made. I can't go on living knowing that it might have been me and I did nothing about it. Maybe he could use my help. I've been practicing all year and I've been getting better. I've even moved onto spells we didn't learn in Dumbledore's Army. I know I'm not as good a fighter as you or Harry or Ron… but maybe I can help."

Hermione didn't try to dissuade him; it was his own choice, his life, just as her decision was her own. She simply put her arms around him.

"I'm proud of you, Neville. It's a very honorable thing to do. I'm glad to have you on our side and not theirs."

He chuckled softly and hugged her back.

"Now isn't this a sweet scene? In fact I feel a little ill," came a drawling voice from their left.

Severus Snape loomed at the entrance of the hallway with his arms crossed menacingly over his thin chest. Hermione pulled away from Neville and glared at him, keeping herself between their former professor and her friend.

"Miss Granger, if I could have a word," he said stalking towards them. He glared at Neville. _"Alone,_ Longbottom!"

Neville puffed up. "I'm not scared of you anymore!" he stated.

Snape laughed cruelly and snapped his fingers. Neville's legs began walking to the tapestry on their own accord making him look like a frightened soldier.

"Don't you dare hurt her!" he called back as he marched straight through the painting and down the hall.

"Why do you always have to be a such bully?" Hermione protested vehemently, crossing her arms.

Snape stared her down. "My manners do not concern you. Tell me Miss Granger, are you prepared to do as you have been instructed today?"

"Yes, of course!" she snapped defensively. "If I was prepared to do otherwise I wouldn't be here!"

He looked at her for a long moment, his eerie black eyes digging into her soul.

"Did you sleep well last night?" he asked.

Hermione's brows furrowed in confusion. One moment he was antagonizing her and the next he was inquiring as to her welfare?

"I slept fine, thank you," she answered tersely. He stared at her uncomfortable for a moment before nodding.

"You understand what will happen should you fail?"

"Of course I do! What is the meaning of this interrogation? I have already given my word and am prepared to give my life. Is that not enough for you?" She was sick and tired of his icy demeanor, she had always kept her word, she wasn't some sleazy Slytherin! Did he honestly think her so spineless that she would back out?

"I have given more to this cause than you can comprehend. I will not see it collapse over some little girl who fancies she will become a martyr through her heroic actions and once the time comes to give all, she reneges, afraid. We have planned everything around this. If you fail, then we all do. The magnitude of your answer yesterday creeps down to now. Your time is dwindling away faster than you can comprehend. So I ask you again, _can you deal with that, Miss Granger?"_

"Yes," she whispered, his words reverberating inside her head as he eyed her.

With a nod he turned swiftly and left her alone. She shivered when an image of her lifeless body being lowered into a deep, dark hole fluttered across her mind. She could hear the rain of dirt thudding against her coffin as if she were in it, hear the muted voices of those above, those who would go on while she rotted away in the ground, slowly decomposing until the wood around her disintegrated and what was left of her was eaten by the worms and bugs that infested the soil. She felt ill and had to lean a hand against the wall to keep herself steady.

 _I can do this, I can do this, I can._ She repeated this mantra, scrambling for the comfort they brought. _Everyone dies, no one makes it out of here alive. Those you leave behind will be joining you eventually, it's your job to make sure that it's not too soon._

Her stomach roiled as she thought about everyone going on without her, the marriages that would take place, the babies that would follow. Quiet nights with friends at home or loud ones at the clubs she and Harry and Ron had talked about going to once everything was over. She thought of her mother and father growing old and never knowing they had a daughter, she thought of the Weasleys having raucous parties at the Burrow with Harry, all of their smiling faces flashing through her mind. They would go on and be happy and though she knew she would never be forgotten, she would be shoved to the backs of their minds, a mere memory.

Hermione looked down at her trembling hands and clenched them tightly. She would not break apart, not now, not anymore. She'd had more than enough tears, now it was time for action.

She suddenly wished that Draco was here, to reassure her that it would be alright. She wished, more than anything, that she could see him once more, that she could tell him that she loved him, even if he didn't feel the same.. She'd never had the chance, and now she never would.

Hermione didn't realize there was someone with her until she was being pulled into a massive embrace, the vest against her cheek her rough against her skin but the body beneath it warm. She stood there in shock, realizing that she'd simply been staring into the distance, lost in her thoughts in the wake Snape had caused. Jerking, she looked up into a kind face with beady black eyes that were swimming.

"There, there's my Hermione. Atta girl. I got yeh now. Just breathe, in an' out. It always helps me."

"Hagrid?" she said incredulously. He beamed at her.

"Good ter see yeh, too," he said with a smile.

"Hagrid!" She threw her arms around him and hugged her dear friend tight. He chuckled.

"Yeh women always could change yer moods faster an' a thestral."

"I didn't know you were back!" she exclaimed. He had left several months ago with Madame Maxime trying to win back the giants and no one had heard from him since.

"I on'y jus' got back. When I heard what was goin' down terday I was so angry I coulda thrown one o' me pumpkins out the window."

Hermione eyed him. "Hagrid, _did_ you throw a pumpkin out the window?"

He blushed. "Well, maybe jus' a little one."

Hermione laughed and gave him one last hug before he set her back, looking at her. She wondered how long he'd been standing there while she'd been oblivious, swallowed by her subconscious. Shame burned through her at the thought. She couldn't believe she'd let Snape get to her.

"Wha' did that git say ter yeh to make yeh so upset?" Hagrid asked.

"It wasn't anything... I just let my imagination run wild, that's all." She was afraid Snape might have been right about her but now that she was grounded, thanks to Hagrid. She knew she could go on today. She just couldn't think about the grisly details of after.

"I'll kill him fer upsettin' yeh," Hagrid said gruffly.

"No, Hagrid, it's alright. I'm fine now," she said meekly.

"Hermione, really…yeh shouldn't be put inter this..."

"Hagrid, it's okay. Really. I want to do this, it was my choice."

He nodded, his eyes full of sorrow. She could tell he was struggling with himself. "I am so proud of yeh, Hermione. You've grown inter an amazing woman."

"Thank you, Hagrid," she said wholeheartedly.

"Watch out fer yerself, yeh hear me?" he said gruffly.

She smiled up at him. "Don't need to when I have you by my side, now do I?" she said and he blushed. She giggled and they turned to leave.

"Why were you up here?" Hermione asked as they headed toward the Great Hall.

"Lookin' fer you. Someone said they hadn't seen yeh since yeh'd Flooed outta the Burrow so I said that I'd take a look around and see if I could find yeh. 'Lo and behold." He swung his arms uncomfortably.

"I should have told someone where I was going. I just wanted some space, but as always, Hogwarts never lends a hand to privacy," she said with a grin and he chortled.

Together they walked down to the crowded Great Hall. The tables had disappeared and the room was filled with bodies. In the far right corner people were practicing spells, overseen by Flitwick who was continuously charming pillows beneath falling victims. A large map of the Malfoy Manor had been strung over the northern wall and Kingsley was pointing to particular parts and talking about the strategies to a group of Aurors. One table was laden with food the house elves had prepared for those who had not yet had breakfast. Large groups of people were circled together discussing tactics and what to do when caught in a sticky situation. Hermione caught Harry's eye from across the room and waved to him. He excused himself from Amos Diggory and ran through the crowd towards her.

"Where the hell have you been? We've been looking everywhere for you! Ron and Luna set out ten minutes ago to find you! Luna was afraid you'd been abducted by Snorcrinkles, or something like that. Where were you?"

"Well, I ran into Neville and Snape interrupted us and wanted a word and then I ran into Hagrid here and we got to talking and lost track of time," she somewhat lied quickly. Hagrid, bless his heart, backed her story.

Harry eyed her, but didn't say anything. "Alright. We need to do some practicing. A few members of the DA wanted you to show them how to do wandless magic."

"It's not something you can just learn in twenty minutes!" Hermione exclaimed, purposely forgetting that she herself had done so. It had been a different situation. Normally it took a very long time to learn. She and Draco had been short on that particular aspect.

 _Draco…_

She shook her head against alluring thoughts of the blonde and followed Harry to the eagerly waiting group.

A quarter of an hour later Remus magicked his voice as Ludo Bagman had during the Triwizard cup.

"If everyone could please gather 'round over here."

The enormous crowd moved as one towards the small dais Remus had erected so he could see above their heads. It took several minutes for everyone to situate themselves and quiet down.

"Thank you," he said loudly. "We'll be leaving here in just a few minutes. Now, if everyone would-"

 _BOOM._

The room fell silent as it shuddered harshly and everyone looked around to see where the sound had come from.

 _BOOM._

The ground shook harder with the second sound wave and Hermione fell against Charlie Weasley who held her up as the ground rolled beneath them. People screamed and were thrown to the floor as the ground rocked and a roar filled the air. Hermione's heart banged in her chest and she held her wand at the ready even as Charlie attempted to push her to the floor where people were now taking cover.

Remus jumped off the dais and covered Tonks with his body as what felt like the entire school was hurled into the air. Everyone inside it pitched up and fell roughly down, crushing each other. Hermione could feel Charlie, who had fallen on top of her, yank her up and Ron was suddenly there, wrapping his arms around her as the windows shattered and the room shook uncontrollably. Screams and yells pierced the air and Hermione watched in horror as people were sliced to ribbons by the falling glass. Someone cast a barrier belatedly and the glass hit it and dissolved harmlessly.

"We have to find Harry!" Hermione yelled at Ron over the din. He nodded in agreement and they weaved between the falling bodies as they were chucked this way and that. The room was in chaos as a loud groan sounded throughout the hall making it sound as if the walls were about to cave in. Dozens of people were conjuring spells to try to quell the incessant heaving but it did no good. No one believed it was an earthquake. They all knew what she did.

They were being attacked.

...

XOXO  
RynStar15


	27. Chapter 27

Draco tapped his wand against his left palm impatiently, pacing. Where was Snape? He should have been here by now...

He couldn't do this, he couldn't. How could he just watch Hermione die? She had proclaimed her love, she might have his child...

What he wouldn't give to take her place...

He smoothed his robes nervously and caught a long chocolate brown hair on the front of them. Definitely not his. He cringed when he thought of what might have happened if someone else had caught the hair on him. He looked at the wavy strand and smiled, remembering how it felt between his hands, how it smelled when he pressed his face against it, buried deep inside her.

 _Her hair…_

Gods…he had it, he had the answer.

Sprinting through the drab house, Draco threw himself into the very room which would hold the key. Nearly crying in relief he fumbled through cabinets, finally finding what he was looking for and shrinking it to fit into his pocket, placing a Cushioning Spell around it for protection.

One hand in his robes, fingering the solution to this demented game, Draco stumbled back to the front hall to continue pacing and waited for Severus's return so they could go together to meet the Dark Lord. When the tall man finally entered Draco nearly pounced him.

"Is she alright? Does she remember?" he demanded hysterically.

Snape quirked his brow at Draco's interrogation. "Miss Granger is as can be expected. She will pull through, I have no doubts. It is you I worry about."

"I will not fail this time," he said with all sincerity. Not now that he had this… But he had to know... "Does she remember?"

Snape looked at him almost...sadly. "No, the potion worked as planned."

A part of Draco's heart sank while the other part was grateful that it had worked. It would make things easier for her, he was sure, and he would keep their love locked away for the both of them.

"Plans have changed," Severus stated matter-of-factly and Draco started.

"What? What happened?"

"We must convince the Dark Lord to attack the Order at Hogwarts."

"Wait, attack _them?_ I thought they were supposed to be attacking _us!"_

"Listen to me, Draco! We need to give the Order all the advantages we can. Taking the fight to them will increase their likelihood of success. They know the grounds and the castle, they are prepared for battle. They will be able to draw us into traps, traps I have made easy for them to access," he explained, his face hard, ready. "As an administrator, I can break the defense around the castle. You must tell the Dark Lord you will bring him to her, make it seem as if this will work the better for him, let him think this was your plan. This will draw his attention, he will be preparing to fight, his mind will be off the protection of the snake. She will be left with a small contingent at the Manor while he makes his way to the school. We will lead him there, engage him, then the Order can get to the Snake easily once we lower the wards for them. Everything else must remain, he must have access to Miss Granger. Do you understand?"

"Yes," Draco whispered, his mind whirling.

He felt weak. He would be taking the Death Eaters right to them. They would never forgive him for this, _she_ would never forgive him for this. Everything he'd done to join their side, to help them, would be smothered by this betrayal.

It didn't matter, he knew Severus was right. They would have home advantage, the Dark Lord would be distracted trying to initiate a battle. It would give them time to get to the snake, and maybe, just maybe, Hermione would be spared...

He felt a hand clap on his shoulder and looked into the eyes of his mentor.

"Be strong, Draco. You won't let me down."

He nodded. He did not tell his godfather what he had planned; he knew the man would just try to talk him out of it. But he couldn't, not now, not anymore. It was his turn.

Snape escorted him outside and Draco gripped his arm tightly. The older man whipped around and they were being sucked through a vacuum until they landed on the cement sidewalk in front of the Manor. The dull, cloud ridden sky threatened to deluge upon them, but Draco sneered at it as if daring the sky to test him.

They walked to the front door nonchalantly and when Snape held it open for him he caught Draco's eye, telling him silently to keep to the plan. Draco gave him the faintest of nods, then strode into his childhood home and made his way to his Master.

Stopping outside the wide double doors he glared at the men flanking them.

"Tell our Lord that I wish to speak with him. I will await his summons."

Draco sat in the chair opposite as he had the day before. Had it only been one day? His night with Hermione had seemed endless though it pained him that it was over already. He wished he were still back in that room, wrapped in her warmth, hidden from the horror that was still to come.

Draco forced himself to clear his mind and attempted to not look glassy-eyed while one of the Death Eaters knocked on their Master's door and the other watched him stonely. As the taller man slipped inside the room when the door swung open, Draco constructed the barriers of his mind as his father had instructed him, bit by bit. He visually saw the wall that built itself as a barricade between himself and the Dark Lord. That bastard would not have the only part of him that mattered, the part of him that had Hermione. Jealously, he coveted it and would not allow anyone near that precious part of his heart.

He pushed his mind to dwell on what he was to do today, what to say to the evil creature residing not ten meters from where he sat. He waited as patiently as possible while his stomach twisted and turned. The bit of toast and tea he had choked down that morning sat heavily and he hoped he wouldn't be sick.

Not a moment later the cloaked and masked man reappeared.

"The Dark Lord awaits," he mumbled. Draco nodded curtly and strode into the dim room. The door slammed shut behind him and locked with a definite click but he didn't miss a beat. He strode forward purposefully and knelt before the tall man who stood once more with his back to him, gazing into the flames.

"My lord, I have done as you asked of me," he greeted with his eyes cast to the hardwood beneath him.

"You have the girl?" the sub-human hissed, and Draco could feel him tense in anticipation.

"Not with me, my lord. I have a surprise for you that I believe will please you."

"I dislike surprises, Draco," the cruel man drawled, turning. "Stand."

Draco rose to his feet and met the Dark Lords eyes with a smile. "If you wish, I will bring her to you this very moment. But I believe you will appreciate what I have succeeded in fastening for you far greater."

The Dark Lord sneered, his snake undulating behind him, slithering over to her master. "And what may that be, my dear boy?"

Draco grinned, attempting to instill a face of pride and excitement. "The Order will be at Hogwarts in precisely fifteen minutes. They will be there for the next hour, in which time they are preparing to breach our walls. If we move first, with Severus Snape's help, we can break past the barriers surrounding them and attack first. Hermione Granger and Harry Potter will be there, vulnerable. They will be caught unawares. We will have the element of surprise."

Draco purposely left out the fact that the Aurors would be there as well and that their numbers were strong, keeping that small bit of information nestled safely behind his wall with Hermione.

The Dark Lord stared at him for a long time. Draco forced himself not to squirm under the penetrating gaze.

"How have you come by this information?"

Draco thought fast. "I was lucky enough to stumble across Percy Weasley at the Ministry. He was speaking to someone about it, thinking he was being clever and casting a Mufflaito Charm. I cast the counter and was able to hear every word."

The Dark Lord continued to eye him suspiciously. "And how do you know this is not a set up?"

"They are preparing for an attack, my lord. There was no reason for the Weasel to lie. I cross-checked my findings with Severus Snape who was able to speak to the Order members themselves through his connections. They will be there, my lord, I assure you. We can surround them and you will have free reign to do what you wish to the girl while Potter watches. Potter will be a toy when you are through with her and an easy target. It is foolproof."

 _"Nothing_ is foolproof! Idiot boy!" the Dark Lord sneered before pacing, looking to the far wall, his hands clenched tightly. "Your plan is feasible, yes, but do not get an inflated ego over this trite notion. You are lucky I do not punish you for not bringing the girl directly to me as I commanded...but I do indeed thirst for a good fight..."

Draco's heat caught as the evil man turned to him, watching him for endless moments before speaking. "If this falls through, it will be your worthless life. Be aware, Draco, that my patience with you has run dry."

Draco bowed his head in contrite submission. "It will be as I say, my lord. I swear to you. You could not ask for a better platter with which to have your meal displayed."

The half-man/half-snake sneered. "We shall see."

The creature strode forward and yanked Draco's left arm into his grasp and stripped back his sleeve. Pressing a long, thin finger to the tattoo on his forearm, Draco watched as the Dark Mark blazed to life, holding back a wince at the pain that bit through him.

One by one, in wisps of smoke, Draco watched as the Death Eaters appeared and took their place in their circle, leaving the appropriate gaps for those who had not yet arrived. Starting when a tight grasp caught his arm, Draco allowed the cold, cruel man to steer him to a spot in the circle, a spot reserved only for the highest ranked, his demented aunt appearing wordlessly beside him. The Death Eaters moved soundlessly to accommodate him and he swore he could hear his Aunt Bella hiss from his right.

Draco stood tall and met his father's gaze through the silver mask perched on his arrogant face. He knew that mask nearly as well as he knew the face behind it. He could only imagine the confusion written upon his carefully fixed features and a feeling of complete and utter loathing filled him, demanding that he press it back, clawing for the calm he needed.

Beside his father, his mother stood proudly. Draco's heart ached as he thought about the letter she had written him. He remembered how she used to take him to the park when he was very young and follow him laughing as he flew three feet above the ground on his toy broomstick. He could remember the bedtime stories about famous wizards doing wonderful things and the packages she always sent to him at Hogwarts full of sweets and gifts. He remembered how he'd treated her like trash as the arrogant arse he was, instructing her to make him food or to get her fat arse out of the room while he and his father had been practicing. He remembered the night when she'd snuck into his room and pleaded with him not to follow his father, to stick with her, that she would find him somewhere safe to get away from all of this.

Gods, how he wished he'd listened to her.

When the circle was full, Draco flitted a quick glance to where Snape was standing in his usual spot, his tall, thin stature easily recognizable. He was purposely avoiding Draco's gaze. Although it was impossible to tell behind the gleaming mask, Draco knew his face would be impassive, strong as always. Draco was frightened to realize how much he depended on the older man to make everything work in their favor.

The Dark Lord left his side and walked to the center of the circle.

"My dear friends," he crooned, arms open wide. Draco forced himself not to snort in derision. "We have had a gift delivered to us from the young master Malfoy. Would you like to know what it is?"

Murmurs and quiet "yeses'' could be heard around the circle. The Dark Lord smirked.

"Of course you do. You are all worthless without bribery, aren't you?" A chorus of "nos" and "of course nots" followed suit and his sick smile widened, then suddenly fell.

 _"Crucio!"_ he screamed at a Death Eater that seemed to be smaller than the rest. Draco furrowed his brow, not sure of who this newcomer was.

"You have been greedy, have you not, Miss Parkinson?" Draco's heart stuttered at his words. _Pansy?_

"No, my lord! Never, my lord! I have been a true and faithful servant! I do it all for you, only for you!" she simpered. Her sniveling voice made Draco cringe. He knew what pain it would bring.

"You mock me."

"No, my lord! I revere you!"

"You have not earned the robes in which you soil. Remove them!"

Draco could see her shaking from head to foot as she stood. He knew she had not yet received the Dark Mark for he would have surely been told. He watched, sickened, as she removed the silver mask and pulled off the robe, revealing only her knickers and bra underneath. She trembled, looking up at the Dark Lord who walked forward and drew a long finger down her face much as he had done to Draco yesterday.

"You've always wanted more than you have earned, haven't you?"

"No, my lord!"

Draco groaned under his breath. _Just agree with the bastard, Pansy!_ he urged.

 _"Crucio!"_

Pansy's loud shrieks filled the room and men chuckled as one of her breasts popped out of its tight sheath and flopped as she writhed in agony. Draco looked away with his eyes, his stature tense. No matter how much he had loathed the girl he couldn't stand to watch her being tortured. He suddenly wished he'd donned his mask before the other's had arrived, but instead schooled his features, knowing there was nothing he could do for the poor girl now.

The screaming stopped and the Dark Lord knelt down to the sobbing girl on the ground. He lifted a strand of her stringy black hair to whisper in her ear, loud enough for others to hear.

"You dare defy me, girl? You will see what happens to frauds who dare cross the Dark Lord."

Pansy cried, sobs racking through her gangly form, unable to respond out of utter terror.

Grinning, the Dark Lord stood. "Where is your mother, girl?"

Not wanting more punishment, Pansy spoke up right away. "S-she is ill, my lord! I-I have come in her p-place!"

A high cold laugh rang through the small chamber and the members of the group shifted uncomfortably while Pansy cowered on the ground, her left breast still dangling openly, her father standing still as a statue behind her.

"So, Marilyn could not grace us with her presence? Indeed, that is most unfortunate. However, your insolence is even more so. How would you like to spend a few days in the dungeons until your beloved mother decides to reclaim her position among our ranks?"

Shaking with fear Pansy raised her head. "Y-yes, my lord. I will do as you command."

"Crabbe, take her away!"

A large figure came forth and dragged Pansy to her feet. Draco could only imagine what she would suffer at his hands. She had still not realized her state of indecency and Draco knew what the coming hours would bring for his former classmate.

Draco peered at her tall father who had said nothing during the proceedings, hoping he would come forth, do something to spare his daughter from this awful fate. But he remained stationary and the Dark Lord ignored him as he addressed the crowd.

"As I was saying, we have a most wonderful surprise awaiting us at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Young Draco here seems to have secured us a most advantageous position, have you not?"

"Yes, my lord." Draco bowed his head humbly.

"Yes, yes. We shall indeed take this gift he has so kindly offered to us and make the most of it. It seems Mr. Potter and his friends are currently residing at the school. We shall surround them and you will kill those impertinent traitors while I have my amusement with that little Mudblood bitch. Now, doesn't that sound like fun?"

Murmurs of agreement rang through the air. The Dark Lord lifted a thin hand and they ceased. "Do what you will with the others, but the girl is mine and Potter is to be kept alive. Is this understood?"

The Dark Lord caught Draco's eye as the excited yells of an approaching battle filled the room. He could feel the Dark Lord probing his mind and he allowed it. Draco stared back at him lazily as if giving him free reign to his thoughts while covetously blocking that part that could not be monitored by the evil lord. In the fore of his mind Draco thought, _I have nothing to hide, my lord. I give you my service, my life. I will serve you well. My failures will be no more, I will be better. Allow me to show you, my lord, that I am your humble subject. I feel you will be most pleased with what I have procured for you._

The Dark Lord severed the connection and glided towards him. The room fell into a hush.

"You have done well, young Malfoy. I sense you wish to ask me something. Come, my boy. What is it?"

Draco stood his ground, not giving an inch. "I wish to assist you in the torture of Miss Granger. She has thwarted me one too many times and I would take endless pleasure in assisting in her demise."

The room was silent, still, as the Dark Lord stared him down. Draco held the fear deep within him. He had to be there with her, he had to do this one last thing...

After a moment, the serpentine man nodded ever so slightly. "I believe this will be valuable practice for you. You may accompany me."

Whoops and hollers filled the room. He was sickened by their glee, but grinned wholeheartedly, knowing his plan would come to fruition.

Draco bowed low and spoke to the floor. "Thank you, my lord. You are most gracious."

"Rise, my boy. We shall see if you have proven yourself worthy soon enough. Let us make preparations."

While the masked individuals scattered to do their various tasks, Draco closed his eyes as he felt a hand on his shoulder and tensed.

"Well done, my son. You have made me proud," Lucius drawled.

Draco felt agony ripple through him as he realized that the only time he had ever heard these words was when he had begged the Dark Lord to let him torture the woman he loved.

Lucius would burn as well.

...

XOXO

RynStar15


	28. Chapter 28

Hermione shoved through the crowds, the deafening roar thrumming through her blood stream and channeling fear throughout her being. She caught a glimpse of messy jet black hair and dragged Ron by the arm towards their friend. He was inches away, his hand outstretched, reaching for her own when a thunderous jolt echoed throughout the hall, more powerful than all the others.

Hermione was launched forward off her feet, her fingers still clasped around Ron's forearm and she watched as Harry and everyone else around them was tossed mercilessly. The power blew through the room, pressing her into the ground so that she couldn't move.

When it was over the room was eerily silent. The quiet bore down on them, a palpable dread consuming them. Lifting herself on a shaky elbow, Hermione looked around. People were slowly starting to sit up; Kingsley was already running for the front door with Moody gimping along behind him. She felt Ron stirring beside her but no one made a sound. When Kingsley strode back into the Great Hall he nodded his dark head and they tensed. It had happened, the walls had been breached.

The fight had come to them.

Hermione looked up when she felt someone tugging on her. It was Harry. She allowed him to help her to her feet and looked at him oddly when he didn't let go of her hand. He refused to meet her eyes but looked into Ron's instead. She could almost see the words passing between them. If only she could read their minds like they apparently could.

People gathered themselves together and began taking stances around the hall, ushering the younger ones to the middle so the more experienced ones could surround them. Harry's hand clasped hers so tight she thought it might fall off and when Ron gripped her wand arm tightly she was about to tell them how ridiculous she felt being led by them like a child, but she never got the chance because a blood curdling voice rang through the tall room just then.

"I am wounded for not being invited to your little…get together," Voldemort's cruel voice crooned. "Especially after you have taken things from me, things I admit myself to be most aggrieved to be bereft of. You know I cannot allow these actions to remain unpunished. Repirations must be made and I believe you have something I want desperately."

"You've got me," Harry shouted beside her, ignoring her protests. "Let everyone else go. This is our fight, Tom! Don't pawn it off on others!"

Hermione yanked at his hand, hissing at him. "Harry stop, this isn't the plan-"

A cold laugh echoed through the chamber, cutting off her words. "We will have our time, my boy. You will see what it is to feel pain. But not just yet. There is someone else who requires my attention first."

"No one else is involved, this is our fight! It's me you want!" Harry feigned ignorance, Ron and he tightening their hold on her and Hermione knew they were trying to prevent her from going. She struggled against their holds but the two stood firm.

"Send out that girl whose hand you're holding so tightly and no one else need be."

He could see them. Everyone looked around at the high windows, their wands drawn, searching for the evil man whose disembodied chuckle sounded once more.

"Come now, Harry. You don't want to sacrifice more innocent lives now, do you? What about this one?"

A heart rending shriek rang in their ears as Ginny was lifted into the air, writhing and screaming in agony. Arthur and Molly yelled and tried to get to her but she was lifted beyond their grasp, a bright white bubble surrounding her to make it impossible for others to help her, their spells rebounding uselessly.

Hermione's heart broke at the sight and she tore away from the boys, whose grips had lessened in fear, towards the front hall.

"No! No, stop! I'll come! Please, just let her go!" Hermione screamed, knocking people to the side who tried to stop her. Ginny's screams ceased as she stumbled through the open doors of the halls while Order members held back Ron and Harry, their shouts ringing in her ears. She stopped at the tall double doors and looked back at them, her breath coming in pants.

"Hermione!" Harry struggled against Remus and Kingsley who held him back. "Hermione stop! Hermione, look at me!"

She lifted her eyes to him. "I know you can do it, Harry. I believe in you. I always have. Be strong, do what you have to do. I love you."

Tears streaked from behind his glasses. "Hermione, please, don't, I love you-"

Hermione turned from the devastation in his eyes and pulled open the wooden doors, Ron crying her name behind her. She looked back once more at a hysterical Ron, smiled at him with a courage she didn't feel, and walked out into the grey November morning.

Before her stood a mass of black figures. The doors slammed shut behind her and she took a deep breath, knowing no one could help her now. She walked down the front steps to where they stood, head held high.

The hooded and masked Death Eaters stood sentinel around Voldemort, his snakelike face smiling gruesomely at her. Was Draco out there, ready to fight her should she try to run? He had been the reason she was here in the first place, would he torture her as well, that look he'd given her in the field flashing in his eyes?

Voldemort took a few steps towards her, setting himself apart from the rest. She could see the fury in his countenance and steeled herself.

"How very Gryffindor of you, my dear. I commend your courage."

The pain coursed through her before she could draw breath for speech. Screams tore from her throat unwillingly and no matter how she tried to stop them, they kept coming. It was unbearable, she was on fire, she had to be. Her skin was melting, boiling, her bones snapping like twigs. She couldn't think over the pain, didn't hear the laughs that rang above her or see Draco start forward before being caught subtly by Snape's hand.

When it finally ended Hermione gasped air into her searing lungs and tried to push herself back up but Voldemort beat her to it by forcing her up with her arms and legs locked to her sides. He closed the few steps between them and took the wand from her pain-slackened grasp. He examined it for a moment before grinding it into dust with one hand. He laughed as she struggled against her bonds uselessly, horror in her eyes.

"Come, my dear. You didn't really think I'd let you keep it? It is not as though it will be of any use to you anymore. Not where you are going. Now, tell me. Do you know why you're here?"

"Because you're a sick, demented man with a Napoleon complex?" she snapped. Then regretted it.

She gasped in agony as invisible knives carved into her skin. She watched in sick horror as the blood ran in rivulets over her torn robes. A spell cracked across her cheek and her face snapped to the side with the force. Spitting blood from her mouth she met his gaze, swallowing back the bile that rose from the pain.

"I'm not afraid of you," she grated out, her eyes never faltering. She smiled up at him disdainfully, knowing she was sealing her own fate by drawing out their _tête–à–tête_ to give the Order as much time as possible. "You're just a hypocritical bastard who feels diminutive because his father was a Muggle. You're sad, you're pathetic, you-"

Her words were cut off when her world exploded. She couldn't take it; no one could survive this kind of agony. Her throat cracked with her yells which fell from her as over and over as she was assailed with the mind numbing pain.

Tears streamed down her face and ran into the grass which is where she found herself when the pain eased, allowing her to think again. She watched through blades of viridian as black robes billowed towards her. Before she could throw her hands up to protect herself one of the feet connected with her face and she felt her nose shatter as blood gushed from both nostrils. She cried out, cupping her face with two broken wrists. The burning pain was indescribable.

A cackling laugh made her freeze. _Gods, no. Not her, anyone but her..._

"Guess who?" Bellatrix Lestrange giggled maliciously. "My lord has asked you a question. You will answer him or I will make you wish you'd never been born."

"Knowing you walk on the same earth as me is more than sufficient," Hermione replied thickly through the blood filling her mouth.

When Bellatrix lifted her by her hair she spit a mouthful of blood onto her masked face. The woman shrieked and threw Hermione from her, lifting her wand but Hermione was faster. She sent the older woman flying with a silent curse and watched her hit the ground, screeching. Her screams were cut off suddenly as her arms and legs snapped together, boils and burns erupting onto her skin.

Hermione felt herself being pulled across the lawn as the group rioted in fury. She was lifted until she floated once again in front of Voldemort whose face was twisted in ire.

 _"How did you do that?"_ he demanded. Hermione leaned her head forward as if she were about to tell him a secret.

"Magic," she whispered.

His hand came out and slapped her hard across the face. If it weren't for the spell she would have been on the ground. Hermione spat out a molar that had come loose and pushed the throbbing radiating throughout her body to the back of her mind.

"Resorting to Muggle tactics now? How feeble," she taunted. She didn't care if she'd be punished for it. She was going to die anyways. The longer she could keep him busy, the better. She hoped they were working on how to get to the snake because she didn't know how much longer she could hold off. Her damnable body might die on her before she was ready. Forcing herself to work through the pain she detached herself and watched his face convolute with indignation.

"You think you can mock me, girl? Think you can extend your petty life with useless words?" he spat and she knew he was coming unhinged. "You sealed your fate when you thought you could steal my possessions. Well now I will steal yours, everything you have will be mine."

"Is that what this is about?" she laughed. She probably didn't make a very intimidating figure with blood running down her face and her robes hanging off her battered body, her hair wild. But she didn't care. All she cared about was holding on long enough…just long enough and then she could succumb to the welcoming darkness. "Maybe you should have hidden them better. You didn't seem to be very worried about security when you let me watch where you put every single-"

Hermione crashed to the ground, writhing in agony. He tortured her endlessly and she feared the mind would shatter with the pain. When the spell was finally lifted she didn't move, couldn't, could barely do more than pull breath into her aching lungs. She'd never felt anything as devastating as this.

 _Ignore it, ignore it,_ she chanted to herself. She let her mind rise above it, floating beyond her mangled body. She watched through swollen eyes as Voldemort knelt next to her head.

"Come, my dear. I believe our conversation would be better suited somewhere a little more… _private."_

...

Harry yanked from his godfather's grasp and dragged an inconsolable Ron to the wall and slammed him against it.

"Pull yourself together! We need to stay focused. She doesn't have much time. We need to find that snake, kill it, and get back so we can save her. We only have one chance at this! Don't fuck it up now!"

Ron banged the back of his head against the wall as he gulped in air. "I-I never told h-her! Harry, I n-never told her and now we've just s-sent her to be slaughtered! She'll never make it!"

"She'll make it, dammit!" Harry snapped, shaking his best friend roughly. "She has to. Now come on, pull it together, I need your help, she needs you to be strong. Can you do this?"

The red head nodded, shoved Harry away, and wiped his streaming nose on his sleeve. "Yeah, yeah I got it. Bloody fucking _shit!_ Okay," he took a deep breath. "Okay. I got it. Let's go, let's get that fucking snake."

They turned to Remus who was conversing with other Aurors and Order members.

"Are you ready?"

"Yeah. We have to hurry, she doesn't have long," Harry replied.

"Alright. Here's where we're at. Mad-Eye was able to communicate with Severus a moment ago through Legilimency. He says the snake is at the Manor. He's given us directions to the room. Nagini's guarded like we thought she would be. It should be no problem but we have to wait for Snape's signal that he's lowered the guards. I need everyone to be ready the moment they're down."

"We're ready," Harry said. "How are we getting there?"

"Portkey!" Tonks cried, producing a dinner plate with blue trimming.

"Dora..."

"Remus, we discussed this," she snapped at her husband. "You need me, Hermione needs me."

Arthur turned to his friend who started to protest. "Remus, she's one of the best fighters we have."

Harry could see Remus struggling with himself but relented and Arthur turned to say goodbye to his wife who was fussing over Ron. Order members crowded at the door, waiting for the signal to attack.

Harry wondered what was taking so long, what the hell was Snape waiting for?

After what seemed an eternity, Moody limped towards their group. "Let's go. Molly, lead the others."

Mrs. Weasley nodded and turned with one last kiss to her eldest son and strode to the front of the awaiting throng.

"Everyone, grab hold!" Remus called out. Harry placed a finger on it and watched as Ron, Tonks, Moody, Kingsley, Bill, Charlie, Fred, George, Arthur and an Auror woman with bright blonde hair he had never met did the same, everyone else remaining to fight and protect Hermione.

"Ready, set…now!" Remus said and a hook grabbed Harry around the naval and they lifted off.

When they landed Harry didn't fall for once. They looked around the gleaming hall at where his nemesis had grown as a child. He remembered why he hated the ferret so much, staring around the opulent residence.

"You five," Mad-Eye said pointing at Harry, Ron, Remus, Bill, and Charlie. "Follow me. Arthur, take Tonks, George, and Fred and spread out. We don't know who all might still be here. Rita, you and Kingsley go in from the back. Are we clear?"

They all agreed and Harry started forward before he realized Remus hadn't moved. He had caught Tonks' hand and Harry could hear him murmuring. "If anything goes wrong, get out. Do you understand?"

"Remus, don't start, we both know I need to be here, I have to help."

"I know, but please just listen to me on this one thing, Dora! We can't risk-" his hand floated to her flat belly. Harry's heart clenched when she clamped a hand over his. Slowly, she nodded. "Alright. You're right. I will."

"I wish you had stayed at the headquarters with Fleur…"

"You know I couldn't."

"I know. Stay safe." His kissed her tenderly and walked quickly away, not looking back to see if they followed. Sparing a sad smile for Tonks, Harry hurried to catch up with Remus who was striding towards a grand staircase where Mad-Eye was limping ahead. Following the gnarled man, he led them through elegant corridors and Harry felt more like he was in a fancy hotel than a house. They dove deeper into the manor until they stopped at a pair of charcoal black double doors that were flanked by two masked Death Eaters. Charlie and Mad-Eye disposed of them both before they were even aware of their presence. They slumped to the floor wordlessly and Remus nodded to Harry who lifted his wand.

 _"Reducto!"_

...

Severus watched as the Dark Lord disappeared with Granger and grasped Draco's upper arm. Lucius ran forward to release Bella from her binds and the air was soon filled with her shrieks and cries.

"Come…" he said into Draco's ear and tried to draw him inconspicuously back but Fenrir caught them.

"Where do you think you're going, Severus? We're supposed to attack the castle!"

"Our Master has instructed me to deliver the boy. Not that it's any of your business, Greyback," he snarled.

Fenrir growled low in his throat.

"Come, Draco. We mustn't keep our Lord waiting."

Severus dragged the boy back and Apparated with him before anyone else could question them. When they landed on the ground before the Manor he rounded on Draco.

 _"What do you think you're doing?"_

"What are you doing? Take me to Hermione!" the insolent teenager yelled.

"Fool! You nearly gave us away! Pull yourself together or you'll destroy everything we have built! She will have done all this for _nothing!_ Do you understand?"

"Yes! I bloody fucking understand! Now take me to her!" Severus slapped him, once, twice, hard. Draco looked ready to attack him. Good, he needed that anger.

"We must lower the wards so the Order can arrive, this is the reason we're doing all of this! Now control yourself!" he snapped, turning the blonde to face the manor. Thankfully the boy did not protest, simply lifted his hands in front in him. Severus followed suit and closed his eyes, forcing his power into the wards, felt them shudder beneath their strength. The damn boy was stronger than he knew.

As soon as every last vestige of protection dissipated, he turned to Draco.

"You must focus now, Draco. He will have you torture her, you must obey, you cannot let your guard slip, not even for a moment. The Order will need every moment possible. Miss Granger is doing the best she can but her body won't hold out much longer. Draw it out. Taunt her, do whatever it takes but make it good. Are you ready?"

The boy aged drastically before him, every vestige of childhood dissolving at the knowledge that he was to help destroy the girl he loved. Severus thought fleetingly of dark red hair and bright green eyes and his stomach clenched. He would not wish this fate upon anyone.

"Yes."

Severus grabbed his arm again and Apparated to the dilapidated Shrieking Shack as he'd been instructed.

It was empty. No screams, no threats, no lights, no sounds of heinous torture.

Nothing.

"No…" he said breathlessly. The two men strode from room to room futilely.

Draco was fuming by the time they returned to the main room. "Where the _fuck_ is she?"

"I don't know," he said honestly. Fear for them all clawed at his chest. "He's figured us out."

"We have to find her!" Draco was near hysterics. Severus didn't blame him. If the Dark Lord had found out…he could be at the Manor. He could be anywhere, doing anything to that poor girl, their entire mission could be destroyed...

"Come, we must go."

Heart suspended in his chest he Apparated back to the Manor and prayed to any gods who were out there that Hermione Granger held out long enough for their plan to work.

...

XOXO

RynStar15


	29. Chapter 29

Hermione lifted herself up on her elbow and grabbed her ribs at the movement. The searing pain that shot through her arm at the slight shift reminded her that her wrist had been snapped as well. Every centimeter of her body was in pure agony. She fought the pain, tucking it into her subconscience, though with every passing moment it became more and more difficult.

Voldemort had been prowling the room of the dingy cottage he'd taken her to for the last several minutes while he regained composure, but now he came to her, glaring down at her prone form.

"Thought you could keep it from me, did you?"

"Took long enough for you to figure it out," she gritted through clenched teeth. The pain made her mind fuzzy but she worked through it. She needed her wits about her; it hadn't been nearly long enough, not yet. They needed more time.

He laughed his high, cruel laugh that sent a shiver down her spine and made the minuscule hairs at the nape of her neck stand on end.

"No, my dear. This is not about the Horcruxes. For that, you will die. For this," he sucked in a victorious breath. "Well, I'm afraid I cannot allow such dalliances to continue unpunished. I must make an _example._ For that, I require the both of you."

"Both?" she was proud she kept the quiver out of her voice as fear gripped her. _No..._

His laughter rang throughout the small room. "Yes. Yes, this is be…sweet. You will bring him to me."

"I don't know what you're talking about," she ground out. _This can't be happening, he can't know..._

 _"Crucio!"_

Words could not explain. There was fire, knives, clubs. They dug into her skin, pulverized her bones, ripped out her teeth. Thoughts ran half formed through her mind and she couldn't believe she'd once feared death, that utopia that dangled just out of reach.

When it ended the pain lingered. Air refused to enter her lungs; they were deflated. She had never been so scared in her life, and not just for herself. For Draco. For he knew.

Voldemort knew.

"You will learn to understand, my dear, that I am not a patient man," he drawled. Hermione rolled painfully, looking up into his twisted face. "You cannot hide from me, I can read your mind like a book, just as I read Draco's. You two will face a punishment worse than death for daring to defy me. You are going to learn, Mudblood, that I always get what I want. Always. The longer you tarry, the more pain he will suffer. Now, you wouldn't want that, would you?"

"He's not a part of this, you sick bastard," she choked out, fear threatening to cripple her. She could face her own mortality but not his, please not his... "Torture me all you want but you won't have him!"

An invisible vise closed around her throat and dragged her up until her feet were dangling off the floor and she was face-to-face with the monster who had haunted Harry's dreams for years. She sputtered and kicked, nearly catching him with a foot. With lightning quick reflexes that startled her, he vanished and reappeared in exactly the same spot. He grinned cruelly.

"So much anger. So much _hate._ You could be of use…all that power…think of the possibilities that could await you."

"I-never-I'll-fuck-kill-you-"

He chuckled again and curled a strand of her hair around one of his grotesquely long fingers. "Feisty, feisty. Kill me, will you? We shall see."

Hermione could feel the blood pooling in her face and her lungs screamed as she tried unsuccessfully to suck in air. Any moment her larynx would be crushed and she would finally die.

No, not yet, she had to survive, she had to. She had to warn Draco, even if he hated her. She still loved him; she would do anything to save his stupid arse.

Pulling strength from deep within her, Hermione thrust out her palms, causing Voldemort to fly backward and she hit the floor with a strangled cry. The pain was excruciating and for a moment she thought she was going to pass out. He roared and she threw up a Shield Charm, but she was weak, too weak to hold him off for long, and he quickly shattered it with a spell that ripped through her body, hurtling her into the opposite wall as she screamed in anguish.

Voldemort strode towards her, easily batting off the few useless spells she could manage before slumping over, completely drained. She could feel the darkness calling...

"Struggling is futile, Mublood," he sneered. "You know I will win. I always do. Now, you _will_ bring him to me because to do otherwise will be sacrificing our young Mr. Weasley."

Hermione lifted her aching head and a large bubble floated in front of her that had Ron's face on it. He was running, sweat dripping down his freckled countenance, his red hair plastered to his head. All of the sudden he stopped and clutched his stomach, screaming in pain. He fell to his knees, crying out, both arms now wrapped around his abdomen.

"No! Stop, stop, please!" she cried, struggling to raise her exhausted body. "Please, don't-"

"Bring me Draco."

Hermione hesitated, she couldn't, she couldn't do this, she couldn't choose. If she brought him here Draco would surely die...

Ron screamed and her attention snapped back to the vile images that floated before her. Boils erupted on his skin and tears flowed freely as he bellowed in utter agony. Her heart shattered as his eyes turned glassy and he keeled forward suddenly, his expressionless face smacking the stone floor, never to move again.

 _"Nooo!"_ she howled. Forgetting her pain, she launched herself at the evil man before her. She was thrown backwards but her adrenaline surged, giving her one last store of energy as she sent spell after silent spell at him as she hit the ground. He blocked most, sending others back at her which she threw up a hasty barrier for. She lowered it, catching him off guard, and finally hit him with an Impediment Jinx and used the split second she had to do something she'd never thought she could do.

 _"Crucio!"_ she screamed, using both hands, her fingers curling, pouring all the rage she had into the Unforgivable Curse. Voldemort shrieked in pain and his long body writhed on the ground beneath her fury. Sweat pooled on her forehead from the strength of the spell and she felt her energy waning quickly.

A boom of wind knocked her off her feet and into the window behind it. She broke through the glass and hit the grass outside, shards ripping into her back. Before she could catch her breath she was being yanked back into the cottage to hover before him as before. His face contorted with fury such as she had never seen. With a flick of his wrist she watched as the bones in her arm snapped before her eyes. She screamed in pain and the blackness hovered at the edge of her vision as she watched, horrified, as the bones ripped through her skin. One by one each of her fingers snapped at the joints and her elbow bent the opposite direction.

She was sick. She hurled over and over as the pain consumed her. She realized she was on her knees, her left arm dangling uselessly, ravaged by fire, while her right one held her up. She hurled again, trembling in pain and terror. She caught a slight movement in her peripheral and her mind cleared enough to register that she had to do something, and fast.

 _Confrigo!_

She looked up at Voldemort's yell and watched as his robes were consumed in fire. Hermione stumbled to her feet and lifted her right arm but he caught her wrist, twisting it as she cried out, his robes extinguishing as he slammed her onto the ground. Then she froze. She couldn't move.

Malice shined in his slit-like eyes as he leaned over her mutilated frame.

"If you do not bring me Draco Malfoy I will kill everyone you love, one by one, while you watch," he said, all but trembling in rage. "Think your parents are safe in Australia? Think again, Mudblood! I will make them suffer more than you can imagine, what you've endured will be _nothing_ compared to how I will destroy them."

Hermione felt tears of terror welling in her eyes as she begged for this to not be happening to her. She couldn't handle any more pain, her heart and body were broken by this sick half-man before her.

"Once they are disposed of I will make you watch as I kill Potter, break him bit by bit. And then when you think you can't take anymore, you'll endure more pain than you could dream in your worst nightmare. I will win, Hermione Granger. And you will help me."

Her eyes slammed closed in utter despair. _This can't be happening to me..._

"You will bring him to me personally so you will know until the last fleeting moment of your pitiful life that his death was your fault. You have five minutes."

Hermione slammed onto ice-crusted grass, screaming in agony, writhing in pain as the spell was lifted. She heard the sounds of war echoing around her and someone was kneeling next to her, turning her over.

"Hermione! My gods, what-"

She opened her swollen eyes to see Dean Thomas staring down at her in horror.

"Draco," she croaked. "I have to...get...Draco..."

"Malfoy?" he asked confusedly, wand arm raised with a Shield Charm to prevent them from being hit by wayward spells. "He's not here, he's at the Manor with Snape and the rest!"

"Take me," she wheezed. "Please...hurry..."

He nodded, gazing at her in pity. "Hang on Hermione, this will hurt."

She closed her eyes as Dean lifted her into his arms while she screamed. He turned on the spot and landed on the slick tiles of the entrance hall in Malfoy Manor. Dean cried for help as he ran with her to the drawing room to their right. He laid her gently on the sofa, every small rattle making her cry out.

"I'm going to find someone, hold on Hermione, just hold on!" he said, racing out the door as the black clawed at her. Almost instantly a familiar voice was calling out to her.

"Miss Granger!" Snape yelled, yanking her back from the darkness. He was kneeling over her, the same terror written on his face as had been on Dean's at her appearance.

"D-Draco…" she gasped as another wave of pain permeated throughout her being.

"Yes, in a minute, we have to get you to-"

"No! No time!" she snapped. "Minutes-Draco…I have to find Draco!"

"Alright, calm down Miss Granger. Mr. Thomas-"

"I'm on it."

"Hold on, Miss Granger." She heard him whispering spells over her, easing her discomfort minutely.

Hermione focused on not blacking out. How did Voldemort know where her parents were? And Ron... Gods, Ron…she'd killed him. Her stupid arrogance had gotten him killed…she'd never see him again…

The tears mixed with the blood on her face and made the gashes burn. She could hardly think through the pain.

"Hermione?"

Her heart nearly stopped at the familiar voice, the one which had haunted her dreams since they'd returned to the present. Now, she wished they'd never left, that they'd stayed there, where none of this horror could touch them, where they could live together forever...

"Merlin, oh _, fuck…"_ Draco was there, kneeling before her while Snape hovered tensely, snapping at Dean to get back to the school immediately. There was a _crack!_ and Hermione licked her lips, gathering her strength. She tried to sit up but four hands pressed her back as she cried out in pain.

"Draco, listen to me," she grated out. "I know you hate me, but he knows…he knows I love you. I'm sorry, I didn't mean to, he saw past my barriers…"

Snape cursed and Draco grabbed for her good hand, cradling it gently as she rambled on, knowing they were almost out of time.

"He's angry, so angry…my parents, Ron, he killed him, I didn't have a choice, he magicked me here-"

"Hermione, slow down. What's going on? Where's the Dark Lord?" Draco asked wildly.

"I don't know, I don't know where we were! He just sent me here-"

Draco turned to Snape. "Find him," he grated out and Snape turned on his heel, moving faster than Hermione had ever seen him.

Draco brushed her blood encrusted hair from her face gently, his eyes full of pain.

"It's alright now, you're here, I've got you, you're safe," he said, his hands trembling.

"No," she coughed, her body seizing with pain. "No, he sent me here to-to find you-to take you-"

"To find me? Why?"

The words spilled out her mouth unwillingly and her heart screamed as she heard herself say them.

"He said he had to make an example. He knows I'm in love with you, I'm so sorry, Draco! I didn't mean-"

Draco nodded, determination hardening his features. "Then you have to do something for me, Hermione."

"Anything, Draco!"

"I'll explain in a moment, but first you have to drink this; it should help with the pain." He pulled a vial from his robes. Oh, gods! She would do anything to lessen the agony. If she could think, fight, she might be able to get them out of there, to save him...

Draco cradled her against him, sitting her up, and lifted the potion to her mouth and kept her head tilted back when she sputtered and tried to spit it back out. This wasn't a pain potion! He was poisoning her!

Her throat traitorously swallowed the appalling liquid before she choked. When he withdrew the bottle she looked up at him in betrayal.

"What was that?"

His grey eyes looked at her in a way she never thought he would again. "You'll see. Everything is going to be alright now. I love you."

Hermione's heart swelled as he dug another bottle from his robes and drank whatever was in that one as well. She tried to tell him how much she loved him, but her words were cut off as her body began to convulse.

She knew this feeling. Her skin rippled, stretched. Lifting her broken arm in front of her she watched as it mended and lengthened, the skin whitened, the wrist thickened. She looked up in horror as she watched Draco changing. A gash on his face, blood dripping down his neck, wild brown hair sprouting from his now feminine head. With a wave of his wrist their clothes switched and he cried out as the bones in his arm snapped.

When it was over the pain was gone and her own face stared back at her, twisted in agony as he slumped over in pain.

He had given them Polyjuice Potion, they had switched bodies. And he had no idea that he was the one Voldemort wanted dead.

...

Draco had never felt so much pain in his life. How had she been suffering this? Cries ripped from his sore throat and he clutched at his _-her-_ broken arm. He watched as his own body knelt over him, smoothing his long wavy hair. Merlin, this was odd.

"Draco..I-I-"

Suddenly a hook caught around his waist and she grabbed him and hung on. They both landed with a thud on the floor and the pain ripped through him, wrenching howls from his throat, the sound of her voice echoing around the room breaking him. His heart ached knowing the suffering she had endured. But she was safe now, that was all that mattered. He could take this because he knew that she would survive. She was smart; she could thwart him long enough to get away...

He sure as hell hoped Potter knew what he was doing.

"Well, well, well. There are my lovebirds. Well done, Miss Granger."

Draco looked up into his own eyes, seeing the fear there but he tried to tell her with his gaze that it was alright, that this was what he wanted.

"Draco, come join me, if you please. I think we shall have some fun with the girl."

Hermione trembled, but Draco told her wordlessly to go to him, nodding, pleading that she took the hint.

"Yes, my lord," she mumbled in his voice. Draco watched himself walk to the Dark Lord. _Bow,_ he told her silently. But she didn't and he feared-

 _"Insolence_! You are still a minion. Kneel before your master, boy!" He watched the Dark Lord lift his wand and she was forced to her knee, her back bent painfully low.

"Forgive my arrogance, my lord! I grew too excited thinking about torturing the Mudblood, I slipped. I swear to you, it won't happen again!" she said, still feigning ignorance, though Draco know it would do no good any longer.

"No, it won't. Now, rise and show your master just how much pain you can bring your precious Mudblood."

Draco watched as Hermione, cloaked in his form, stood hesitantly and faced him. In her now grey eyes he could see the pain, the fear. She didn't want to do this, he knew how much it was killing her. He inclined his head ever so slightly, urging her forward. He would happily take this pain for her.

She lifted her wand and Draco watched in horror as the Dark Lord lifted his.

 _"Cru-"_

 _"Avada Kedavra!"_

XOXO

RynStar15


	30. Chapter 30

_Eight minutes earlier…_

Severus looked down at the still form which had crumpled at his feet only moments before. He'd taken up battle with the rest of the Order as Draco searched the Manor for Miss Granger and any sign that the Dark Lord knew of their plans, though with most of the Death Eaters obviously absent he let himself breathe a sigh of relief. If the Dark Lord had any inkling that his last precious Horcrux was in danger he would surely be here with the rest, defending it in any way possible. As it was, the fifty-strong guard he'd left behind attested to his fears. It seemed, for now, that he remained unawares.

A loud _crack!_ and cry for help shook him of his reverie and he strode out of the body-strewn hall and into the front entrance where his former student, Dean Thomas, was rushing out of the drawing room, screaming that Hermione Granger was beyond those walls...

Severus rushed quickly to his favorite pupil's side, heart hammering.

"What the- Miss Granger!" he rushed to her side and kneeled on the floor before her. He had never seen such a gruesome display in all his years. The sight of her distorted body made him ill. Blood caked every surface and oozed out of wounds as bone jutted from her skin. She was hanging on by the merest thread...

"D-Draco…" she croaked pitifully.

"Yes, in a minute, we have to get you to-"

"No! No time! Minutes-Draco…I have to find Draco!"

His heart hammered. He knew the girl wouldn't be in such a state if there weren't a good reason. "Alright, calm down Miss Granger. Mr. Thomas-" he bade to his former student who nodded.

"I'm on it," he said and raced to the front hall.

Severus looked down at the battered woman before him, his heart wrenching at the sight. Closing his eyes, he placed his hands over her, murmuring every spell he could think of to spare the poor woman of the agony she endured, though he couldn't alter her state lest the Dark Lord found out. He had a vague feeling he was not through with the girl yet.

She was fading away before his eyes, she didn't have much time, and all she wanted was his godson? It didn't make sense, but he trusted her, knew she would do what she had to do. She'd given almost everything for the Order until this point, and he was horribly certain she would give the rest before this was all over.

Draco whipped suddenly into the room, his shoes skidding on the slick surface. Severus stepped out of the boy's way and watched him rush forward, watched as his entire body snapped back in repulsion at the sight of his mangled beloved.

"Hermione?" he seemed to ask, falling to his knees beside her, his hands raised as if wishing to touch her but scared to bring her more pain.

"Merlin, oh… _fuck..."_

Severus watched their exchange in dismay, dread seizing him at Granger's admission. As soon as he learned of the Dark Lord's intentions he was striding from the room, intent on working his way into the Dark Lord's mind, finding a way to him, any way...

"Severus!" Arthur exclaimed, racing up from a staircase off the hall, face drenched in sweat from battle. "What are you doing here? I thought you were supposed to be with Hermione!"

"She is here, in the drawing room. Draco is with her."

"My gods! She's here? Is she alright?" The nervous man strode forward as if to enter the room but Severus stopped him.

"No, she is not. She doesn't have long."

"Then why are you not taking her back to Hogwarts? She needs Madame Pomfrey, we must hurry-"

"No," Severus stopped him, his hand gripping the man tightly, preventing him from interrupting the two. "She asked for Draco, I believe the Dark Lord has a plan. I trust her judgment; if she could wait, she would. Something is going on, I was just about to search for the Dark Lord-"

"I'll not see her harmed any further for your sick games!" Arthur snapped lividly, yanking his arm from Severus' grasp and brushing passed him. He ripped open the door to the drawing room and stopped suddenly, staring around.

"Where are they?" he asked looking back at Severus. His heart sank.

 _"What?"_

Fearing the worst Severus ran into the room and, seeing that the pair were gone, swore loudly.

"Why did you leave them alone? What is wrong with you?" Arthur screamed, rounding on him.

"Calm yourself! I can track them. It's an old magic, passed through my bloodline. It's how they used to track witches many years ago."

Arthur looked at him in disbelief. "You can find where they are? Then why didn't you do it with You-Know-Who?"

"He uses a block, I cannot follow him," Severus admitted, striding into the room.

He stepped up to where the forces of magic were strongest, just in front of the sofa. He was stunned to realize it was Voldemort's magic which had been at work, not Granger's or Draco's. But he hadn't been here, so he couldn't use the block. Severus found the portal of magic still detectable.

"Tell the others to prepare for the Dark Lord," he said to the sputtering man behind him and Apparated away.

...

Ginny threw up a shield to block a blue flame headed her way. Sweat poured down her face. The Death Eaters had stormed the castle and chaos had ensued. She looked up and spotted her mother fending off a tall Death Eater. Ginny threw a Stunner at the bastard and watched her mother move on to the next without missing a step.

Ginny felt a spell hit her in the back, paralyzing her. She fell to the ground, smashing her face onto the hard stone floor of the Great Hall. She tried to move but she couldn't, she'd been hit with a Full-Body Bind. Someone tripped over her and her heart clenched with fear.

"Ginny! _Finite Incatatum!"_

Ginny sat up and looked into the eyes of Neville and sighed in relief. "Thank you!" she cried, throwing her arms around him. Neville threw her back to the floor and covered her body with his own as another spell blew over them. Keeping her down he threw a Shield Charm over them and turned to her.

"Do you know where Harry is?" he asked, gasping. She wondered why he would want to know, but there was no time for a discussion.

"He's at the Manor! The snake-they have to kill the snake!" she shouted over the din, scrambling to get her feet under her.

"Thanks! Be safe, Gin!"

Neville stood and ran, throwing spells over his shoulder and blocking curses that flew at him. Ginny marveled for a split second at how vastly he had improved since school before she was on her feet and battling once more.

...

Hermione down looked at her own crumpled, bloody body which encased Draco. His wand quaked in her hand as she lifted it to him. She knew she had to torture him; it was the only way to stall until she could think of a plan. Free from the pain, her mind was able to work at a normal pace and she glanced around her. She knew they were in some kind of cottage with forest all around them. The light was dim, the sparse furnishings were covered in dust. The one window in the room cast a grey tinge upon them, the closest means of escape if Voldemort had placed an anti-Apparition charm over the abode for anyone except himself.

She watched Draco nod, urging her on. She hesitated momentarily, hating that she had to cause him pain, but if she didn't act now, Voldemort would.

Hermione took a deep breath. _I'm sorry…_

 _"Cru-"_

 _"Avada Kedavra!"_

Hermione watched in sheer terror as the green streak flew at Draco, hitting him square in the chest where he slumped, his beautiful grey eyes extinguishing, her heart shattering.

 _"No!"_ she wailed. Hermione didn't remember moving, but she was throwing herself onto the body that looked exactly like her own, the horrible, horrible, image that betrayed her worst fears...

Her own glassy eyes stared up at her, as she smoothed back her bloody brown curls. The body was lifeless, un-responding. Draco's body shook as she dragged the limp form into her arms and she screamed endlessly, not caring about the evil man behind her chortling in elation.

"Did you think I wouldn't know, Draco? Did you really think I wouldn't find out? You loved a Mudblood, and now you will pay for it," Voldemort said. Hermione clutched the still form to her chest, rocking, willing life back into it.

"You bastard!" she choked out, crumpling as Draco's voice echoed around her.

She knew her own end was coming and embraced it gladly but a loud scuffle sounded behind her and she looked up to see Snape send Voldemort to the floor and hold him there with a spell.

"Go, Draco, get back to the Manor!" he grunted, trembling with the power it took to hold the demented man down. "Take her and _go!"_

He didn't know. He didn't know that Draco was dead and she was stuck in his body.

Hermione hesitated, knowing she should help, but maybe if she could get him back, maybe she could somehow undo...

She Apparated to the Manor and fell, crushed beneath her own body she knew to be the man she loved to the floor of the entrance hall, the weight of the horror more than she could bear. Sounds of war raged somewhere above but she couldn't move, paralyzed by fear.

"Draco! Oh gods, _no,_ is she...? _Oh, Merlin!"_ Hermione looked up into the horrified blue eyes of Mr. Weasley. The older man fell to his knees and reached his hands out to the crippled form in her arms.

 _"No!"_ he cried, his hands trembling as they grabbed at the mangled figure. "Oh, no!"

"Mr. Weasley-" She tried to tell him, to explain that it wasn't her, but the words stuck in her throat. She didn't want it to be real. She wanted to be the lifeless body that everyone would see. Instead she was stuck in the form of the man that she loved, a man who had given his life for her…

She felt numb, the tears had stopped. She couldn't think. This wasn't real. She thought it ironic that she had watched herself die as that was exactly how she felt. She'd often wondered how much pain a person could handle before they broke entirely. Now she knew.

Arthur took several shuddering breaths and looked up at her. "Draco, we have to go, it's not safe here-"

"Harry?" she croaked suddenly. "Where's Harry?"

"He's upstairs, he went to find the snake-"

Hermione flew to her feet without thought, dropping the perjurious body, ignoring the protests ringing behind her. She tore up the staircase, she had no idea where she was going but she ran toward the sound of combat. They had to be up there and she now had a fool-proof way to get to that snake…

Whipping around a corner, Hermione collided with a hard frame and nearly went to the ground but a hand steadied her.

"Malfoy? What are you doing here?" Bill asked, looking at him questioningly

"Where are the others? Are they after the snake?" Hermione heard Draco's voice ask. Her heart tugged harshly at the sound. She felt it odd that she could basically stare Bill Weasley in the face, having always had to look up to the tall man.

"Yeah, we got bombarded a few minutes ago, it's been an absolute uproar, I was just going to get help. I thought you were supposed to be with Her-?"

"No time to explain! Which way did they go?"

Bill hooked his thumb behind himself, his dragon claw piercing swinging with the movement. She knew he was watching as she flew around the corner and followed yet another staircase.

She heard noises, dead ahead. She came upon a fierce battle, Death Eaters flooding the hall, bodies scattered on the floor before a splintered set of doors, inside which more fighting rang. Hermione clutched the wand still miraculously in her hand and threw a lasso around the closest standing Death Eater, dragging the body to hers.

"What the-"

"Stop, you fool! Where is the snake?" Hermione asked, making her voice raspy and commanding.

"Master Malfoy! The snake is inside! They were trying to get to it; we were guarding it, just as we were told!"

Hermione killed the bastard almost without thought, tossing him to the ground as she strode forward.

"Potter!" she shouted into the fray, seeing his shaggy black head fighting fiercely before her. Harry turned and looked at her suspiciously.

"What are you doing here, Malfoy?" he demanded, dodging a wayward spell.

"That's none of your concern. Give me the sword." The words tumbled from her mouth as if she were always meant to say these things, barely registering her own actions.

Harry looked at her incredulously. She had to get them to move, if she could just get into that room…there was no other way. Silently she raised her arms in fury and flung her magic at the men before her and they hit the floor, one by one. It was easier than it should have been and Hermione didn't question, dead inside to anything but to kill that snake, to end this, to get back to Draco, to undo what had been done...

Harry watched her in horror as she stepped over the dead bodies towards him.

"The sword, Potter," she repeated, holding out her hand.

"Are you mad?!" he snapped, raising his wand. Rolling her eyes, Hermione Summoned the shrunken sword of Gryffindor from Harry's pocket while he bellowed in rage. She caught it and flung him aside, aiming for the fight in the room beyond, tucking the sword into her pocket as she went.

Hermione strode into the room in a way she had seen Draco do many times. She allowed the darkness to claim her as she looked at the few people left battling, the bodies strewn about. Throwing spells at the Death Eaters who fought the men beyond, they dropped as the others had, the fire burning within her destroying everything in its wake. Remus, Charlie, and Mad-Eye turned to her with the same startled look Harry had given her. With a wave of her hand the three were flying from the room, crashing into Harry and Bill in the hallway beyond as she quickly rebuilt the door, placing locking charms on it before turning to the gilded cage before the fireplace.

"Just you and me," she said darkly. Sensing danger, the snake hissed as Hermione strode forward. She could feel the magic permeating from the crate and she lifted her hands, focusing on drawing the magic away.

The room trembled with the power it took to bring down the wards, Hermione grunting in exertion as she fought against a magic beyond anything she'd ever encountered. She struggled but finally, with one last yell, she felt it break, snap beneath her fury, and the cage shattered into pieces, leaving the snake vulnerable before her.

Raising Draco's wand she was about to strike when the serpent lunged at her and sunk its razor sharp fangs into Draco's forearm. Hermione bellowed and swung her arm, casting a Burning Hex on Nagini with her other hand. She released Draco's arm in pain and fell to the floor where she writhed. Hermione advanced and the evil creature attacked, knocking her to the ground. She cried out in pain as Draco's blonde head smashed into the floorboards. Teeth sank into her side and she grabbed the thick snake with both hands, the wand clattering to the floor uselessly.

With strength she'd never before experienced she pounded the snake into the floor and held it prostrate with her pale left hand and ripped out the sword which was now the size of a dagger, raising it above her with a war cry.

She brought it down into the serpent's throat and the explosion knocked her off her feet, the heat surrounding her. Light filled the room and the force pressed her to the ground and stole her breath. She felt her skin burning as it had in Alvida's cottage. For a moment, everything went black.

When she awoke, she rolled to see the limp body of the snake before her. Agony ripped through her as she realized that it was this creature's fault Draco was dead. Their mission to destroy her had killed him, had taken away her heart, her soul. Fury such as she'd never felt welled inside her and she rose to her knees, looking at the last vesicle of Voldemort's soul.

She tortured it ruthlessly. Tears streamed from her eyes as she screamed and tormented the dead snake, watching it jerk and writhe. On and on it went, the lifeless body flopping beneath her power. She felt no pleasure, only burning pain and the anguishing fear of living without Draco. She had killed him, it was all her fault, and now he was gone...

"Malfoy, stop! _Stop!"_ Harry's voice cried from behind her. A hand on her shoulder. Clenching. Holding. Easing her back. "It's over. That's enough."

With a sob Hermione drew back her hands and looked at them. There was blood on the long fingers which were not her own.

What had she done? What had she become?

She looked at the lifeless snake, its skin burnt, innards twisted on the floor. She had done that.

"Come on." The pressure on her shoulder increased and another hand was on her upper arm, tugging her towards the hall. Her feet didn't want to move but Harry pressed her forward.

In the hall Tonks was helping Moody to his feet and handing him his cane while Bill healed a severe gash on Charlie's side. From the corner of her eye she saw Ron launching himself at her.

"Ron, _no!"_ Harry jumped in front of her, protecting Draco, as Hermione nearly collapsed in relief. Ron! He was alive, he was safe, Voldemort had lied.

"He's a fucking traitor! He's-"

"He just killed Nagini!"

The silence was deafening. She looked into the sea of faces she knew so well as they gazed at her incredulously. She centered on Ron, aching to drag him into her arms to erase the false image of his cold, dead eyes. But the malice in his gaze stilled her.

"You're supposed to be with Hermione! Where is Hermione? _Where is she?"_ Ron demanded wildly.

"She's dead," came a voice from behind her. Hermione turned. It was Mr. Weasley, his eyes red, face blotchy and tear streaked.

"Wha-what? No… _no!"_ Ron screamed, collapsing to the floor as Harry grew deathly white.

"No!" Hermione yelled, not able to stand the pain on her friend's faces. "No, it's not like it seems!"

"You...you killed her!" Ron yelled, lunging at her again. Arthur intercepted Ron while Harry fell to the floor and looked as if he was going to be sick.

"No, she's not dead!" Hermione cried. _"I'm_ not dead!"

"Of course you're not, you bloody imbecile," Ron croaked, slumped in his father's arms.

"No, listen!" she said, staring into his eyes, begging for him to understand. "Ron, it's me, it's Hermione!"

Silence rang through the hall as the Order members stared at her blankly, interspersed between the dead bodies at their feet.

"What are you on about?" Harry rasped looking up at her, his gaze pleading.

The words stuck in her throat, knowing if she said them it would make it true. But she couldn't stand the agony in the faces of her friends any longer, it was too much. "Dr-Draco…he, he…he's in my body, I'm in his…Polyjuice Potion…he died…because of me…He knew, he knew, and he-"

Hermione collapsed beside Harry beneath the weight of the confession, hitting the ground and sobbing harshly. She dipped her shaking hand into Draco's pocket and lifted out the vial there. Mad-Eye limped forward and took it from her, uncorking it and taking a whiff.

"She's telling the truth," Moody's gravelly voice admitted.

"But how-?" Harry grated out.

Hermione tried to explain but she couldn't, the words wouldn't form. She sucked in heaving breaths, struggling for composure. She couldn't fall apart, not now. They weren't done, not yet. It wasn't over, not until that sick bastard was gone for good. Draco didn't die for her to lay here and do nothing.

"Snape," she croaked, her fingers grasping at the tile beneath her, her eyes to the floor. "He's fighting Voldemort. We have to find them-"

"You won't have far to go."

Hermione whipped around to look into the cruel face above her and instantly felt herself being pulled back by arms, away from Voldemort who stood at the entrance of the hall, his black robes billowing about him, his snake-like face drawn in a snarl.

"Want to know what became of your precious spy?"

With a twitch of his wrist Snape fell from thin air, his limp body slapping sickeningly on the floor, sightless eyes staring at them.

The arms dragged her to her feet, yanking her back as everyone else surged forward, surrounding her, making a wall against their opponent.

"Come now," Voldemort sneered. "Don't hide my worthless traitor. Come here, Draco. Face me."

Hermione shook off the hands, Harry's, and pushed Charlie softly to the side to stand before Voldemort. Harry ripped her back again before she could stop him, placing himself before her.

"It's over, Tom. Now it's down to you and me. Leave the others out of this and deal with it like a real man."

Voldemort dropped his head back and laughed coldly. "But I am not a man, Harry Potter. I am more, much more."

"You're only a seventh of a man, Tom. We killed the rest. Now it's your turn."

Voldemort stiffened, fury burning from his eyes. Flicking his wrist again, Nagini's demolished form appeared before them and his head whipped up and locked on Hermione.

 _"You!"_

Hermione grabbed at her throat as it caved in on itself. She was lifted from the ground and heard yells around her, spells fired. Pain whipped through her and her eyes were stuck on his blood red ones. Evil was filling her, seeping through her. His hate coursed through her system, her veins boiling with it. The world muted and she could dimly see what was happening around her. Ron was tugging on her, Harry and the others throwing spell after spell at Voldemort as they bounced off him harmlessly.

Voldemort walked slowly towards her, his eyes growing, growing, swallowing her, consuming her. She felt her eyes rolling in her head but his gaze bore into hers still. She couldn't escape the pain, the anguish. Then another sensation racked through her body.

Her skin crawled, her insides twisted. She tried to cry out but she couldn't, her throat crushed beneath his spell. Voldemort stopped suddenly, watched as she transformed back into herself. She shortened, her bloody hair curtained past her shoulders, her body twisted back into its near-death state he had induced upon her. The pain multiplied. She couldn't survive it, she couldn't...

"No…"

She fell to the ground, her body crumpling.

 _"You_ …I killed you!"

Hermione opened her aching eyes enough to see Harry launch himself at Voldemort and in a whirl of wind, they were gone.

"Harry!" she cried, her swollen throat barely emitting a sound. Kingsley and Bill threw themselves at where the two had disappeared and others were surrounding her.

"Hermione, oh gods…" Ron moaned. People, sounds, colors, they surrounded her, enfolded her, wrapping her in a blanket of agony. She knew she was dying, could feel the life leaving her limbs. It didn't matter anymore. The only part of her worth anything had already died. She'd done what she came to do; now she was going to see Draco again.

She'd be with Draco…

...

XOXO  
RynStar15


	31. Chapter 31

Hermione woke with a start, gasping, eyes wide but unseeing. Hands pressed her back as she shot up and pain radiated through her body. Dizziness overtook her and she slammed her eyes shut, afraid she might be sick. Voices were speaking hurriedly above her, but she couldn't understand what they were saying. There was screaming, but it was far off, distant. She had to help them, whoever it was. She had to help...

She struggled back up but hands forced her down. No, she had to get up, she had to help them, help them, help-

 _Draco._

A ragged sound was ripped from her chest as realization barreled into her and she screamed, the agony what had happened more than she could bear. Her hands came to her face, her fingers clawing her skin against the impossible pain.

 _"No, no, no, no, no..."_

"Calm down, dear, it's alright! You're safe," a soothing voice cooed. Madame Pomfrey. She must be in the hospital wing. Hermione's aching eyes cracked open to take in her surroundings. The nurse and a Healer from St. Mungo's were standing above her, covered in blood, both looking worn and harried. She gazed around her, beds flooded the ward, Healers and assistants running around in complete chaos at the overwhelming amount of wounded that filled the room. She looked frantically for a skinny boy with black hair.

"Harry?" she croaked, lifting herself painfully to her elbow which burned at the contact. "Where is Harry?"

"I have no idea, my dear. We've been so busy-"

"I have to find him," she said gravelly, trying once more to rise but the witches pinned her down.

"Miss Granger, you have sustained grave injuries, we've only just been able to waken you," the Healer prattled. "You are very unwell, you must sit back so we can assess the rest of your injuries-"

"I don't _CARE!"_ she screamed hysterically, the women jumping at her outburst. It didn't matter, all that mattered was that she got to Harry...

"Miss Granger, I know you are worried, but we've only just managed to set your bones, we have to-"

Both witches shrieked in pain at the shocks they'd recived from Hermione's skin where they attempted to hold her back, yanking their hands up to look at their burning palms. Hermione swung out of bed and stumbled into her bedside table, her legs weak. Battling against her body, she pushed passed the nurse who grabbed for her and was electrocuted once more.

Hermione's head reeled but she kept moving, her bare feet stinging on the cold stone floor, gripping bed posts to pull herself forward.

"Wait! Miss Granger, you can't leave, you need to be tended-!"

Hermione ignored the woman and the stares from others she received at her erratic behavior and burst out of the ward. Cold smacked her as she exited and she realized she was wearing only a hospital gown, no shoes. Her bones seemed to be intact, but lashes and bruises still marred her skin, her bloody hair matted around her. Swallowing back the pain, she limped for the staircase towards where the screaming was coming from. She was terrified for Harry, for the others. She had to find them, she couldn't lose them too...

"Harry! Ginny! Remus! _Anybody!"_ she screamed. Suddenly her foot caught on something and she keeled forward, hitting the ground with her outstretched hands and scraping the skin from her palms. Hermione rolled over and turned to the object she had fallen over.

It was a boot, attached to a body which had been shoved carelessly into an alcove.

Crawling to the still form Hermione flipped it over and cried out. Colin Creevey stared up at her through glassy blue eyes. _Oh no, no, no, no!_ her mind screamed at her. The war had been going on around her while she had slept, being tended to, and innocent people were dying all the while. Colin was still warm; he had not passed long ago. Hermione closed the lids over his eyes and vivdly recalled the silver ones which had stared back at her similarly, cold and empty.

Draco was gone.

The breath fell from her lungs. Her numb body sprang to life, every ache and pain intensified, filling her being. The pain she felt was impossible, but she had to move on, had to-

She heard a sob and turned. Dennis Creevey was tucked into a niche in the wall next to a statue of a four-armed troll. Hermione crawled to the young boy and pulled him into her arms.

"Dennis, what are you doing here? You shouldn't be here!"

The boy wailed. "I wanted to go with him! He told me n-no, that I was too youn-ng but… but I followed him anyways. He found out, he always finds out…h-he was protecting me! H-he tried to h-hide me...that's when they came-"

"Who?" Hermione asked as she rocked the blonde boy, her eyes and ears focused on their surroundings, searching for intruders.

"Men, the D-Death Eaters, they c-came and-and-"

Dennis was hysterical, she had to get him out of here. Hermione stood shakily with him in her arms. He was too heavy for her to carry so she urged him forward, trying to soothe him into quieting.

"W-we can't just l-l-leave him!" he cried, trying to stall her.

"We have to, there's no other choice, there's nothing we can do. I'll come back for him, but we have to get you to safety. I need you to be quiet, do you understand?"

He nodded and hiccuped. Hermione draped an arm around him and dragged him through the hallways towards the seventh floor, pressing her hand against his ear and flattening his other tightly against her body to keep him from hearing the screams and commotion. She pulled him through a tapestry and down another corridor.

"Well, well, well. If it isn't our favorite Mudblood."

Hermione whipped around, shoving Dennis behind her. She saw out of the corner of her eye as Dennis tugged his wand out from his robes. Hermione kept herself as a barrier between him and the one man she hated almost as much as Voldemort himself.

"Hello, Lucius," she said with a calm she didn't feel. "I'm surprised to see you."

He cocked an eyebrow as if in question and Hermione's heart twisted painfully in her chest as she was reminded of Draco. He looked so much like his evil sire...

"Alone, that is," she finished. "Where is your backup?"

He looked as if he had swallowed a lemon. "Such a cheeky little chit," he drawled. "But I can fix that."

"Don't you touch her!" Dennis yelled, trying to get around her but she held him back.

"Dennis, _no-"_

"Ah, now, who is this chivalrous young man?"

"Dennis Creevey!" he stated bravely as Hermione elbowed him in the ribs to shut him up.

Lucius laughed and threw his head back. "Do you know who I am, boy?"

"No, should I?"

"Dennis, be quiet! Stay out of this!" Hermione urged as she struggled to keep the boy in place, causing her to do a small dance number.

"Let the boy speak, Miss Granger, where are your manners?" he drawled. "Now then, I think I ought to teach this young man a lesson about how to address his superiors. _Crucio!"_

 _"No!"_ Hermione screamed, throwing a shield in front of the boy who had escaped from her grasp. The shield shattered and Hermione threw Dennis back with another spell. Keeping a shield over him with her right hand, she turned to Lucius who was staring at her in disbelief at her wandless magic.

"Leave him out of this. This is between you and me. Or are you so low that you can no longer fight with equals but only pick on yet _another_ fifteen-year-old?" Hermione sneered.

"You'll pay for your insolence."

"I've beat you once before, Lucius," she stated, referring to the night at Ministry. "But I'm no longer a child. This time I won't be so kind as to allow you to be taken to Azkaban. I _will_ kill you. Now let. Him. Go."

Lucius glared at her in fury, never one to handle his pride being besmirched. "I will allow the boy to leave, you must stay."

"Deal." Hermione kept the shield in place but turned to the frightened teen. "Dennis, get out. Go back to the room where we used to practice, ask for a safe room. Remember what you learned in DA, keep your wand at the ready. Can you do that?"

The boy nodded, eyes darting to Lucius. "But-"

"No, Dennis. I'll be fine. He won't hurt me. Now, _go!"_

He scrambled to his feet and ran out of the small, secluded hallway. Hermione turned back to Lucius who looked as angry as she'd ever seen.

"How very gallant. You Gryffindors are all the same. I don't know what my son saw in you."

Hermione stared at him, deadpan. He knew, Voldemort had known...which meant Draco had only said those things in the field to protect her, that what they'd shared _had_ been real. Though it was what she had wished for, it only made the pain of losing him that much worse.

A cold smile tugged at the older man's thin lips. "Yes, I saw it right away. My son is weak. He has no sense in the art of deception. His romantic heart was open for all to see. You seem to have _bewitched_ him. But a young boy will do as young boys do. He will forget all about you soon enough once I tell him of your betrayal."

"You can't," Hermione snapped, watching the flicker of confusion in his eyes.

"I assure you, I can."

"No," she seethed. "You can't. You can't poison his mind any longer! He's finally found a place where he's safe from you, safe from your tyranny!"

Lucius paled as she shook violently, her body fighting against her words. "He's dead. Your precious _master_ killed him."

Hermione felt heavy, pinned to the ground with the weight of the truth, watching as Lucius' face fell.

"No…"

"Yes."

 _"You lie!"_

"You know I don't. You feel it as I do."

His face contorted. _"Crucio!"_

Hermione didn't have the strength to stop him. She welcomed the pain that coursed through her body, cradled it to her broken heart. When the spell lifted momentarily she pushed herself up on her elbows to look up at Lucius.

"How does it feel to know that you killed your own son?" she grated out. "That, because of you, he was dragged to his death? That the _lord_ you so revere killed your only heir? _HOW DOES IT FEEL?"_

She could actually feel the muscles being ripped from her bones, teeth slicing into her skin, molten lava being poured into her veins. Tears soaked her cheeks but not from the pain in her body. The pain in her soul overtook that of her physical being.

When it ceased again she rested her forehead on the cool stone, exhausted, listening to the panting of the man above her.

"This is your fault, Mudblood. _Yours._ You soiled his mind, made him believe he loved you, made him _weak_. You killed him, you killed my son! I will kill you, Mudblood, I will make you pay. You will feel the pain you deserve. _Crucio!"_

Hermione felt withdrawn, as if she were standing above her body, watching herself being tortured by the father of the man who held her heart and had stolen it when he had left her behind, when he had shoved that liquid down her throat and switched their roles, killing her soul. She hated them, both of them. Father and son.

With a yell Hermione fought off the curse, pushing it into the castor. Lucius fell to the floor, his wand clattering to the stone and rolling as he shrieked in pain. With one hand keeping the spell on Lucius, the other brought his wand to her. Snapping it lazily, she threw the fragments at the writhing man and released the spell. She stood and towered over him where he lay gasping, his usually perfect hair escaping its bind. He looked at his broken wand in horror.

"How does it feel," Hermione asked again, her voice unwavering, dangerous. "To be beat by a _Mudblood?"_

She bound his hands and feet together and watched as he tried to fight against the bonds, enjoying this very Muggle seizure on the haughty Pureblood.

"You are _nothing!"_ he screamed frantically.

"You're right," she conceded. There was nothing of her left now that Draco was gone. "And yet I beat you, Lucius. You are below even that."

He cried out in pain as she raked those invisible knives that had carved into her hours previously to mar his pristine face. "I should kill you," she said almost indifferently.

"Go ahead," he sneered. "Or is the filthy Mudblood too afraid?"

She grinned evilly. "No. No, Lucius, I am not afraid. Not anymore. You simply do not deserve such a simple end."

His eyes grew wide with fear and she gloried in it. Silencing him, she cast a spell that would make him feel as if every centimeter of him were on fire. His eyes bulged, his body contorted with pain. Casting a Disillusionment Charm on him, she left him there to suffer until his mind snapped, to hurt every bit as much as he'd hurt Draco over the years.

She limped down the halls, keeping alert to any noise. The roar of the fight grew with every step she took until she nearly plowed into a masked Death Eater. She took him out quickly, moving on, using the walls to carry her wrecked body.

The battle was upon her. Whipping around a corner she was stuck by a spell and sent flying to the floor with a rib cracking _thud!_ Groaning, Hermione rolled to her knees only to have someone blasted into her side. Hermione grabbed the screaming girl as they tumbled back to the floor. She recognized that voice, that hair. It was Luna.

She turned the poor girl in her arms to assure herself she was alright when she was suddenly ambushed by a pair of thin arms, the blonde hugging her tightly.

"Hermione! You're alright!" Leaning back, the younger girl looked Hermione up and down. "And you're practically naked. You know, the Malthermacles could crawl onto your skin and you could catch a cold wearing that little in the winter. Here, take my robes."

Hermione hurriedly thanked the girl as she shoved her arms into the warm clothing, feeling seeping back into her frozen body. She looked up just in time to throw a Death Eater into the wall when he charged at them and felt a small satisfaction when he slid down the stone and slumped on the floor, unconscious. She watched as an Auror swooped down upon him and Apparated away.

"Where are they taking him?" Hermione asked.

"Oh, they have a room for captives," Luna said calmly, eyeing her again. "You know, you look awful, Hermione."

"I'm fine, Luna," she said, knowing the girl meant no harm in her words, and struggled to her feet with Luna's help. "Do you know where-"

"Watch out!"

Hermione turned, seeing a Death Eater lunging at her. Hermione threw up a barrier over herself and Luna before cursing the robed stranger who screamed in agony as she hit the ground. The mask fell off and Bellatrix Lestrange looked up at her, her face covered in painful welts.

 _"You!"_

Before Hermione could react the witch's claws were on her throat, choking her. Long, dirty nails dug into her tender skin and she watched as Luna tried to curse the woman seemingly uselessly. She gave up and tackled her, sending the three of them to the ground in a heap of screaming and, in Hermione's case choking, witches.

Hermione tried throwing Bellatrix off with a curse but they seemed to just rebound off of her. She tried to warn Luna when a familiar Death Eater lunged at them. Luna screamed as her dirty blonde hair was grabbed by Alecto Carrow and she was thrown off and landed in a crumpled heap on the floor where the disgusting woman tortured her, her pitiful cries reverberating through the hall.

Changing tactics and using her body instead of her magic, Hermione kicked and punched the mad woman who was heaping insults on her. She screamed as Hermione caught her in the kidney with a well placed blow and Hermione rolled so she that had the upper hand. Decking Bellatrix in the face, Hermione put her in a fast Body Bind before she regained composure. Wild eyes looked up at her as Hermione felt herself being lifted much as Luna had and she was tossed like a rag doll across the hall where she smashed jarringly against the wall.

Disoriented, she fell to the floor, momentarily stunned. Her brief lapse cost her and she felt yet another Cruciatus Curse administered to her tired body. Screams ripped from her throat, her voice cracking.

When it stopped she didn't have the energy to move. She gazed dazedly at her hand which had settle directly before her eyes, her left cheek flat against the stone. Her nails were broken and jagged, bleeding from where she had gripped the floor so hard. She could see every line and detail of her hand, the little pieces of dirt of the grey floor. She felt every ache, every muscle, every bone and inch of skin on her body. Someone yelled her name but she didn't look up. She was tired, so very, very tired…

 _"Hermione!_ Hermione, oh Merlin, are you alright? She's not moving! Someone help me!"

Hands were on her, rolling her over. She allowed herself the movement of her eyes which centered on Ron's face. She wanted to say his name but couldn't.

"Hermione, can you hear me?" She closed her eyes, exhaustion stealing her will. She wished she couldn't. She wished she was far away from this place, somewhere where she and Draco could be, away from all this pain...there was so much pain...

"Hermione, look at me! Look at me!"

"Ron, look out!" someone yelled.

Ron fell forward, covering her body with his own. Then he was pulling her up, cradling her to his chest, hefting her into his arms. He was running, weaving between people. Hermione opened her eyes, taking in the scene before her.

She watched as an Auror she had seen several times but could never remember her name fell to the floor, her dark eyes wide and blank. Ron leapt over another nameless body, someone else who had given their life for this cause. Another innocent person who would never see the end of the war, never jubilate in freedom.

Because there had to be freedom at the end of this long, dark, seemingly endless tunnel. There had to be, there was no other choice. And here she was, an able body being carted around by her friend because she had given up.

 _Draco never gave up on you. What gives you the right? You can help, you can still fight. Don't give up now! All these people gave their lives and not so you could surrender now, before it was over. Be strong. Like Draco..._

"Ron," she croaked, lifting her hand to his chest, rousing her shocked system. "Ron, put me down, I'm alright."

"No, you're going back to the hospital wing, you shouldn't be here," he snapped, not looking at her, dodging spells and racing away from the fight.

"Yes, I should! I have to be! Ronald Bilius Weasley put me down right this instant!"

Startled at her severe tone he placed her carefully on her feet, holding her by the arms when she swayed and righted, grappling for strength. "I'm fine. The fall just stunned me for a moment. I'm alright now."

"Hermione, really, you should go-"

She looked up into his worried countenance. "Ron, what did we always tell Harry? We're all in this together. So let's stand by our words, let's get back out there."

She watched his struggle, knew how much he feared for her, but finally gave in to a promise the two of them had made together in their first year, realizing even then that their friend would need them by his side.

"You're right," he finally relented. "Damn it, you're always bloody right, Hermione."

She smiled and reached up to wipe blood from his cheek, happy when she noticed it wasn't his.

"Have you found Harry?" she asked and his face fell, taking the small bit of her heart still left with it.

"We tried, but no one can track You-Know-Who," he said, crestfallen. "After bringing you here mum said that the fight was between them now and the best way to help him was to keep fighting."

Hermione nodded, heartsick. "Then we will."

Grabbing her hand, Ron turned back towards the hall they had just left and the two of them dove into action. It wasn't long before they were separated, before Hermione was so immersed in fighting for her life and the lives of those around her that she stopped thinking, stopped planning. She took blows and gave them, liked to think she gave more than she took. Once, she was Stunned and someone leapt over her with the counter-curse but she couldn't wait to see who it was and thank them because she was too busy dodging a Killing Curse and throwing her own at a Death Eater who had Dean Thomas on his knees. She hoped she got the chance to thank him some day for his assistance.

At one point Hermione stumbled over Mad-Eye Moody lying on the ground. She didn't know if he was dead or just knocked out but she Banished him to the hospital wing before turning on Travers whose mask had fallen off and dueled him to the ground.

She ended up outside. How, she wasn't sure. The battle raged as the moon rose overhead and rain pelted the fighters on the ground.

Back to back with Fred Weasley they dueled the Carrows. Fred refused to kill but Hermione was relentless, an evil overtaking her. Amycus was soon on the ground, fallen from her Unforgivable. Fred Stunned Alecto, sending up green sparks. Kingsley descended upon them and gave them a quick nod before grabbing the screaming woman and Disapparating with her.

Fred clapped a hand on her shoulder and dove at a Death Eater who was dueling Lee Jordan, bashing him on the head with a stone which had appeared in his hand. Hermione was about to turn back when an arm grabbed her around the throat and a wand tip was pressed to her temple.

"Know where your precious Potter is?"

...

XOXO

RynStar15


	32. Chapter 32

Neville landed in the front hall of the Manor he'd battled at only weeks ago. He had only a moment to wonder where he should start to look for Harry when he heard shouts from above and bound up the staircase.

The scene that he came upon was one of utter devastation: dead bodies littered the ground, several Order members were waving their wands and muttering while still more were kneeling over a mangled body Neville quickly realized with a pang was Hermione. Everyone was talking, shouting, his presence ignored until he placed his hand on his former professor's shoulder.

Remus whipped around and started. "Neville! What in the world-?"

"I came to help Harry, Ginny said he was here," he said, gazing over the group for his friend.

"He was taken," the older man said, his face crestfallen. "By Voldemort."

Neville's heart fell. "When?"

"Only a moment ago, we've been trying to track him, but Severus was the only one who could-"

"Remus, we have to go," Arthur Weasley said shakily as he rose from where he'd bent over Hermione. "We've managed to re-start her heart but we can't wake her."

"Take her to the hospital wing," Remus said. "The Healers there can tend to her, then help the others. We have to find Harry."

One of the twins was helping lift Hermione into Ron's arms, both afraid to jostle her, and Neville's heart broke at the site.

"You can't," Arthur said sadly. "Severus said he has a block against his magic. He was only able to track Hermione and Draco because You-Know-Who wasn't there for the block to be effective."

Several men cursed as Ron and the twin Apparated away.

Neville's brow crinkled. "There may be a way around it," he said. "We've always known You-Know-Who to be predictable, haven't we? He always goes back to places he knows. He would do the same now, wouldn't he? He would want it to mean something when he killed Harry."

"But Neville, there are dozens of places he could go," Remus said. "It would be improbable to try to Apparate to every single one and search them in hopes he might have chosen that particular spot."

"We might not need to Apparate," he explained. "I can track magic now as well, my grandmother taught me. We come from a long line of Trackers, she's been working with me for over a year."

"You're a _Tracker,_ Neville?" Bill Weasley said exasperatedly and they all looked at him in awe. Neville smiled proudly.

"Nan says I'm the most powerful one she's seen. I can sense a block if he's performed one. If we brainstormed, came up with places-"

"He could be anywhere in the world!" the other twin interjected. "As impressive as it is that you can track, Neville, by the time we found the right place-"

"He's right," Mad-Eye Moody said, eyeing him, the glass one boring into him uncomfortably. "Mr. Longbottom is onto something. Tom would take him somewhere he knows, somewhere meaningful."

"The house where Harry was born?" Charlie offered, his hand at his side. "Godric's Hollow?"

Remus looked at him and shrugged. "It's worth a try. Neville-?"

"On it," he said, closing his eyes and reaching into his power as his nan had taught him, feeling for the power in the room. It hit him like a wave, nearly barreling him back. The spells from the battle, so much death...

He reached further, thinking of the place he'd visited several times as a child. He felt for the Dark Lord's evil signature, imagined how it would taste. He brought the evil man to mind and reached for him, feeling for that slamming-headfirst-into-a-ceiling punch that accompanied being blocked from magic, but nothing was there.

He pulled himself out, panting. "I-didn't-feel-it," he said, hands on knees. "He's not there."

"Neville, are you alright?" Arthur asked, coming forward to place a hand on his back.

"Yeah, yeah, it's just-a lot of magic-has happened here," he said focusing on regulating his breathing. "Where else?"

"The orphanage where he grew up?" Tonks suggested.

And on they went, more places, more of battling through the magic until Neville was leaning heavily on the wall for support.

"Neville, you can't keep doing this," Remus said, looking concerned. "You're worn."

"We have-to find-him," he grated out. "It's easier to handle-the more I do it, I can defend against-most of it now. We have to keep trying."

"But where else could we try?" Bill asked. "I can't think of any place except Hogwarts that he shares a connection with Harry, and he won't go back to the battle."

The group pondered, all of them edgy. Neville recalled the day that Harry told them all that You-Know-Who was back, lying on the grass clutching Cedric's lifeless arm and a gleaming cup, howling into the night.

He snapped up, looking at the elder members. "Where did the cup take him?" he asked.

"Cup?" Kingsley asked. "What cup?"

"The Triwizard Cup! It was a portkey, right? Where did it take him?"

They all shared an excited glance. "The graveyard, the one where his father was buried," Remus stated.

"Has anyone been there?" Neville asked and Mad-Eye hobbled forward, his wand at his temple, drawing out a long silvery strand, and pressing it to Neville's. Instantly, a scene full of overgrown tombstones laid out before a terrifying stone statue of the Angel of Death came to him, a dark manor looming on a hill in the distance.

"Got it," he said, closing his eyes once more and bringing forth the image before pulling himself under once more, reaching for that power...

It hit him, like a physical blow to the chest. That was it, he felt the block, that's where he'd Apparated Harry to.

When he pulled out he staggered to the side, catching the wall as arms reached out to steady him. He gasped and held up his hand in an indication that he was alright.

"He's not there," he lied, knowing if he told them they'd all go tearing there to help. But Neville knew, as he'd known ever since he'd overheard that conversation, that this battle was for Harry and him alone.

The group groaned in defeat. Neville made a show of exhaustion and looked up. "I-I need a break, I need to go to Madame Pomfrey-maybe a Pepper-Up Potion..."

Remus nodded in consent. "We'll meet you there momentarily, Apparate straight outside the hospital wing, they'll let you in."

He nodded, knowing he didn't have long until they figured him out, and turned on the spot.

He landed in mud before the angel, sleet quickly drenching him. He saw them instantly, He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named holding a screaming Harry to the ground with a spell.

 _"Impedimenta!"_

The Dark Lord flew back and Neville sprinted to Harry's side.

"Neville?" Harry asked dumbfounded, looking up as he skid to his friend's side. "What are you doing here? Run, get out!"

"No, Harry!" Neville screamed, throwing up a Shield Charm as their opponent roared with fury. "I'm not leaving you! It could have been me and I won't let you suffer this alone. We'll fight him together!"

Neville yanked Harry to his feet, steadying him as he tilted. He turned and began dueling the Dark Lord, holding him off, giving Harry time to collect himself. Sweat poured down Neville's face as he slipped and slid across the wet grass, throwing spell after spell at the darkest wizard that had ever lived. Harry jumped quickly into the battle, the Dark Lord now having to fight two fronts.

Harry caught Neville's gaze with his eyes and nodded his head to each side, telling him to split up. The two boys spread out, making the distant targets harder to follow and used this to their advantage. Harry finally caught the Dark Lord with a Stunner and they watched him fly into a tombstone as Neville bombarded him with hexes his nan had shown him.

Voldemort screamed in pain under his assault and Harry added his own, breaking the evil wizard down. Suddenly, a white burst of light struck through the air knocking them back, Neville's head cracking on the stone angel behind him, slumping to the ground in a heap.

Disoriented, he fought to regain his footing but fell over, dazed, the dark wizard swimming before his vision as he narrowed in on Harry, screaming the Cruciatus Curse at him and Harry's cries filled the air.

Neville knew he couldn't hit him with a curse, not with his vision dancing before him. With a roar, he ran forward and tackled the older wizard to the ground. He was promptly rewarded by being thrown from him, howling in pain as his entire body felt as though it had been drenched in molten lava.

 _"Stupefy!"_ Harry yelled from the ground as Neville thrashed in pain, gasping as the frozen rain cooled his heated skin minutely. He rolled to watch as the Dark Lord deflected Harry's curse and shot another at him wordlessly. The tombstone behind him shattered and Harry was forced to throw up a shield where the shards bounced off harmlessly. Harry thrust his wand at the wizard, causing the pieces to pelt his body and he yelled in pain while Harry set his robes on fire.

Roaring, the Dark Lord brought his hands down, expelling the stone and fire in a wave which funneled upwards before crashing down on Harry, surrounding him, lifting him from the ground. Neville cried out for his friend, crawling towards him, forcing his body up, struggling for the pair.

Neville aimed at the Dark Lord's back and cursed him to the ground, pinning him there as Harry fell and lay there unmoving. Terrified, Neville sprinted towards Harry as the Dark Lord threw off his spell and gained his feet and flew for Harry as well, a race for The Boy-Who-Lived.

 _"This ends now!"_ Voldemort screamed as Harry sat up shakily. _"Avada Kedavra!"_

 _"Nooooo!"_ Neville screamed harshly as the green light hit Harry, his body caught momentarily in his half-seated stance before slumping down onto the grass beneath him.

Neville jolted to a halt, the sight before him ceasing all thought, all action. Both wizards stared down at the crumpled man before them, neither of them believing...

He couldn't breathe as the Dark Lord crept forward slowly, stopping before the still body, one pale foot coming forward to lift his face from the sopping ground before letting it slap limply back down, Harry's sightless eyes boring straight into Neville.

Neville broke at the terrifying confirmation. He'd failed his greatest friend. His knees gave out, unable to hold him over the devastation that tore through him at the Dark Lord's exalted cry. He closed his eyes, knowing his own death was eminent and welcoming it gladly, his shame too great to bear. With Harry gone, there was no way to stop Tom Riddle. He had allowed the world to be thrust into darkness because he hadn't been strong enough, fast enough...

The Dark Lord laughed jubilantly as his steps neared to where Neville had sank into the mud.

"What a brave friend you are, dear boy, to come to the aid of our fallen hero. But you are a _fool,_ thinking you could defeat me. _I am Lord Voldemort_ , and I _always_ win. _Crucio!"_

Neville screamed in pain as the spell which had stolen his parent's minds ripped through him and he quickly realized why. The agony was unbearable, but he embraced it gladly, the pain in his heart far greater.

He had no idea how long it went on, it felt an eternity, but finally the spell was lifted and he was left panting in the tall grass, tears coursing down his face. His entire body burned with pain as steps grew nearer and he felt the Dark Lord stop directly before him, flinching as his cold foot lifted his cheek as he had Harry's.

"Come, my boy, open your eyes," his cold voice sang. "Open your eyes and look at what has become of The Boy Who Lived. Come, see him in his death."

Choking back a sob at his words, Neville opened his eyes unwillingly, staring into the face not ten meters from his, the face of their lost savior, the face that-

 _That just blinked._

Neville stared in amazement as Harry lifted a finger to his mouth, rising slowly to his feet.

It didn't matter that Neville hadn't said a word, the Dark Lord had caught the look on his face and whipped around.

The scream that rent the air was inhuman and Neville bolted to his feet, ignoring his protesting body as the Dark Lord raised his wand with a fury beyond words.

It happened in an instant that lasted forever. Harry took his feet as the Dark Lord charged, but Neville was faster, driven by the love he felt for his risen friend, by the knowledge that he was finally able to do what he had been put on this earth to do.

As Tom Riddle swung down his wand Neville dove, creating the only barrier he had against the most powerful curse ever known. He felt it strike, a swift blow, the green encompassing him until it was all he saw, devouring Harry's horrified anguish. But Neville met his eyes one last time, telling him wordlessly that it was alright, that this was the way it was always meant to be.

And then the darkness swallowed him and he felt no more.

...

Harry was screaming, he couldn't stop.

Neville had reached him too soon, he'd dived in front of Harry, using his body as a shield, moving so quickly that he was helpless to stop him from his unwanted sacrifice. Harry watched in horror as Neville slumped to the ground, glassy eyes staring up at him.

The rage in Harry at his friend's demise consumed him, enveloped him. This was it; this was the last person who would die for him.

Without even thinking, Harry hurled his power at Voldemort, his vision swimming with the faces of those he loved. He could see Ginny, sweet, loving, fiery Ginny. Hermione, strong and loyal. Ron, his best mate, his closest companion. He could see his parents and the Weasleys; Sirius, Remus, Dumbledore, the Order. Neville, who lay lifeless at his feet, having given the ultimate sacrifice for him. He saw Cho and Luna, Seamus and Dean, Parvati in her Yule Ball robes. He even saw the Dursleys who hated him but had still taken him in. All these people and so many more had been there; all of them, when he had needed them the most, when he had needed someone to turn to.

This thing, this vile creature, had nothing. That was why Harry was stronger, that was why Harry would win. Tom Riddle had destroyed his final Horcrux out of hate, and now Harry would destroy him out of love.

Harry lifted the spell and walked forward, stepping over Neville's still form to Voldemort where he lay on the grass shrieking in agony. Harry looked down at him, at this pathetic being. For the briefest moment he felt pity for the boy who had never known love, for the man who never would.

"You may be stronger, you may have more powers than I do. You may be older, swifter, more cunning. But it doesn't matter, not anymore. Because I have the one thing you will never have, a magic you can never possess. Love is what thwarted you once, and it is what will end you, here, now, tonight. Say good-bye, Tom."

He looked up at Harry, hate etched in every line of his sick face. He opened his mouth, but Harry had finished listening.

 _"Avada Kedavra!"_

...

Hermione stiffened.

"How did you escape?" she asked through clenched teeth.

Lucius chuckled coldly. "You should have killed me after all."

Hermione's gut clenched. She shouldn't have let her anger get the better of her; she should have just killed him instead of enacting her own childish revenge.

"Where is Harry?" she snapped. "What have you done with him?"

The slow laugh, which made Hermione's blood run cold, rang through her body. She knew he would be sneering at her as his son had done so many times before.

"Come with me, my dear."

Hermione could see out of the corner or her eye as George spotted them and tugged on Fred's sleeve who turned. Lee Jordan followed their gaze and the three men ran towards her, wands gripped in their hands. They wouldn't try anything, not at their distance in case they hit her, but she knew Lucius would kill them all without a second thought.

"Yes," she answered quickly and the last thing she saw before she was whipped away was the boys sending Stunners at them, but they were already gone.

Hermione's feet hit the ground and she buckled, falling into Lucius who pushed her from him. She hit the floor and when she looked up his wand was pointing at her, malice in every inch of his face.

"You needn't have brought me here to kill me. It would have been just as easy out on the field," she stated.

"Oh, I don't wish to kill you, Miss Granger. Not yet, anyway."

"Where's Harry?" she demanded, her only thought of her best friend.

Lucius threw his head back and laughed cruelly, his silver-blonde hair cascading down his back where it had fallen from its leather thong. Nonchalantly, he walked passed her towards a cabinet by a roaring fireplace where he drew out a crystal bottle full of amber liquid. Hermione recognized the drawing room in the Malfoy Manor where Draco had switched their bodies, where he had given his life for her and her heart would have broken if it wasn't already.

Hermione thought about rising but stayed where she was, too exhausted in mind and body to get to her feet.

 _"Where is he?"_ she all but yelled to the floor when his silence became too much to bear. Lucius turned to her and sneered.

"You and he are so alike it is _sickening._ Have you learned _nothing_ since your soiree at the Ministry?" Glass in hand he stalked to her and knelt down, pressing his lips to her ear. She forced herself to stay still, to hold her ground, even as his breath ghosted her skin, making her crawl. "Sometimes, things are not always as they seem, _my dear._ You see, people do indeed lie in this world."

"Not people with consciences!" she ground out, disgusted at herself for falling for his obvious ploy.

His teeth bit into her lobe sending terrified shivers down her back. "I never claimed to have one."

He stood again and swirled his drink before bringing it to his lips. Hermione wanted to smash the gleaming crystal into his face over and over until its icy demeanor was nothing but bloody slivers.

"You are going to help me find my son," he stated, glaring down at her.

It was Hermione's turn to sneer. "Your son is _dead,_ you sick bastard!"

Her heart clenched painfully at the words. She wasn't going to survive this. Every moment she spent in this cold world without Draco was destroying her.

Lucius' face twisted angrily. "I do not believe you. You see, I doubt _your_ conscience. You claim people with consciences do not lie, and yet here you are, spreading untruths. Your own conscience seems to have been tainted. Why, otherwise, would you have betrayed your best friend so you could soil yourself with my son?"

Hermione's fists clenched. She heard a creak behind her but she did not turn, not caring if she were about to be surrounded. "Because I loved him."

"Love is for the weak," he drawled.

"Then maybe I am."

His face contorted. _"Fool!_ I could kill you now!"

"I am not afraid of death. Not anymore."

She realized for the first time how true those words were. A month ago she had been terrified of the unknown. Now however, when her time came, she would embrace it willingly. Draco would be there, he would welcome her with open arms and they could finally be together...

Lucius was glaring daggers at her. "You will get him back."

"I can't."

Her head whipped to the side, popping her neck painfully as his hand cracked against her cheek.

"Even if he _is_ dead you will. You have a Time Turner, that's how you two had your little adventure, isn't it?"

"Your son broke it."

He stilled. "You can obtain a new one. You will go back and undo what was done."

"I can't, you broke the rest in the Department of Mysteries."

 _Smack!_ Hermione fell to the side with the strength of the blow and she was forced to prop herself up on her hand. She felt her aching cheek with cold fingertips and saw blood on them when she pulled them away.

His heel came down on her bare shin, snapping the bones easily. She screamed in anguish and clutched at her leg which was pinned beneath his weight.

"You can and you _will_ or I will kill everyone you know, everyone you have ever loved. Why, even Australia will not be safe from my wrath."

Hermione blanched. Her parents. He knew, just as Voldemort had known. How could they know everything about her?

"You will have to kill me first," she grunted through the pain.

He smirked evilly. "I assure you, I will. In due time. However, now is not the time. You see, I may not have Potter, but I do hold _some_ leverage."

The weight was lifted and the pain in her leg intensified to an alarming height and she gasped in an effort not to scream, her eyes welling.

Draco's sire snapped his fingers and Hermione looked up. Two masked men were dragging in a screaming and fighting bundle.

 _"Ginny!"_ she shouted, horrified. Hermione tried to push herself to her feet but was blasted backwards into a display of dark objects. Glass and wood rained down on her as she fell to the floor with a cry.

Hermione raised herself shakily to her elbows, her lacerated back searing with the effort of looking up at the older man. "L-let her go…"

"You are not in a position to make demands, my dear. _Crucio!"_

Hermione heard the younger girl's shrieks and her heart twisted. She threw Lucius to the wall much as he had to her and cast the same spell as he had cast upon her friend, holding him down as he writhed and yelled.

Before she knew what was happening, she was being lifted to her feet by a pair of strong hands, her spell breaking as her hand was yanked away and Lucius fell silent.

"That's enough, Hermione," the owner said. Hermione fought the bonds but they tightened, dragging her. She looked towards Ginny who was on the floor with George bending over her, Lee holding the two men who'd held her captive with his wand. Hermione looked up into the deep blue eyes of Fred who was picking her up, swinging her legs under one arm while the other cradled her bloody back.

"Lucius-"

"We'll take care of him," Lee said, the two men slumping to the floor before he Banished them to the holding cell.

 _"No,"_ she snapped, attempting to pull herself from Fred's arms but he held her still. "No, he's mine-"

"Hermione, stop," Fred said, his arms tightening like a vise as George pulled Ginny to her feet.

"He'll go to the Dementors. It's what he deserves."

"No, he has to _die,_ he has to-"

But he was spinning and they were whirled away against her screaming protests. He landed outside the hospital wing even as Hermione shoved at him. George landed beside them with Ginny and Hermione was finally able to wrench herself from the twin's arms.

"Ginny!" she cried, grabbing for her friend and yanking her into her arms while Fred kept an arm on her for balance. "Are you alright?"

She pulled the younger girl away to look at her and she nodded. "I'll be fine."

Hermione's face fell at the pain she saw in her eyes. "I'm so sorry, Gin, it's all my fault-"

"No, Hermione, it's not. You can't blame yourself for everything."

Guilt wracked through her despite her friend's words. Fred's hold tightened and he stepped closer.

"Come on, Hermione, we need to get you to the Healers," he said gently, wrapping her arm around his neck and taking her weight. She began to protest but someone whipped around the corner and they all rounded, raising their wands or, in Hermione's case, hand.

 _"Dad!"_ Ginny screamed.

"Ginny! Oh, Ginny!" Arthur ran and swept his daughter off her feet where she met him. The older man fell to his knees, bringing Ginny down with him. George ran to them and wrapped his arms around them both. Hermione could feel Fred itching to get to them so she lifted his arm off her and pushed him forward.

"Go," she urged. He looked down at her leg.

"Are you sure?" He seemed split between wanting to help her and wanting to go to his family. She nodded. He grinned at her and kissed her forehead before running and skidding to a halt at the small mass of Weasleys. Hermione looked on in envy, her heart as cold as her body.

She sank to the floor, her energy depleted, the pain consuming her. She heard more voices, more people banging into the hall.

"Hermione!" Tonks cried as she ran up the hall and lifted her off the ground, throwing her arm around her shoulders as Fred had so she could stand her upright. Her hair was black and short, her eyes the same color, the battle having stolen her magenta locks.

"Harry?" Hermione croaked.

She smiled at her then nodded to the entrance of the corridor. Hermione turned.

He was there, surrounded by the Order, beaten, battered, and a more wonderful sight than she could hardly imagine. The Weasleys on the floor cried out but he walked passed them slowly, his steps measured and heavy, his eyes locked on Hermione.

"Harry," she whispered. He was there, in front of her, alive. "Is he…?"

"He's gone. It's over. It's over, Hermione."

And then he was yanking her from Tonk's grasp, holding her up, her body having given out. She cried harshly and she could tell by the heaving of his body that he was as well. Arms surrounded them and she didn't have to look up to know that Ron was there, holding them, his own tears splashing down onto her face as she lifted a hand to grab him and hold him against her.

It was over, done, finished. The one thing she had wished for since Harry had described what he'd seen beneath Professor Quirrell's turban. They could finally have peace.

And yet she felt no joy.

...

XOXO

RynStar15


	33. Chapter 33

_Sometimes I wonder where I'd end up  
If I follow this dark angel  
Into the unknown years we planned  
Living ghosts of a life that could have been _

Hermione ran the gold strand through her fingers, the metal cool against her palm. She splayed the broken necklace out against her hand, the glass and gold glinting uselessly in the weak sunlight, the perfect metaphor for her shattered heart.

She closed her eyes against the shine, a headache already throbbing behind them. A slow breeze wafted its way across her face, too cold to be soothing. It didn't matter. Nothing could sooth her aching heart anyway.

She lifted her face and looked out across the grey lake before her, frozen over, snow caking the ground around it, glinting prettily beneath the weak sun. The weather was too nice for the day which deserved storms, hurricanes, typhoons, not clear skies and a shining sun. She loathed the light, willed it away.

Hermione looked away from the day and back to the object in her hands, lost in dreams and could-have-beens. She was hollow now, bereft of any emotion beyond all-consuming grief. She felt nothing but the dull ache of loneliness. No one knew, she had told no one of her and Draco; the only ones who had known about their tragic affair were either dead or soulless.

She almost envied Lucius his fate.

Everyone figured she was just distraught from the battle, from the heinous torture she'd suffered at the hands of Voldemort, but they were wrong. The battle was the only thing that had kept her going. The after-affects; the cleaning up, the repairs, the collecting and preparing of the bodies. She had not yet seen Draco's, she couldn't face it, but she had taken care of Colin personally as requested by Dennis. She had also cleaned up Charlie and Percy Weasley for Molly and Arthur's sake as it appeared the two had faced Fenrir. Neville had also been too hard for her to bear so Remus had done it for her.

Hermione had assisted in the re-building of the school, the fixing of the grounds, the re-application of the wards. She had helped Madame Pomfrey in the hospital wing after she had been fixed up for the second time, stood side-by-side with Molly in the kitchen chopping potatoes, pretending she didn't hear her sniff or see the tears that poured down her face. She listened to Harry's tale, held him when he'd cried and cared for him, bringing him food and necessary items when he'd needed to be alone in Sirius' room. She had made stomach calming potions for Fleur who was going through a terrible bout of morning sickness. She kept herself busy because if she stopped, her thoughts flew to him, to his eyes, his arms, his warmth, his voice…

"Hermione?"

She looked up. Fred was there, as he had been recently. He gestured to the spot next to her and she nodded. They didn't talk, they rarely did. Hermione felt so alone with no one who understood what she was going through, no one who knew of her broken heart, but Fred's presence had been oddly soothing, a balm to her shattered soul.

She heard him sucking in a breath and braced herself for some pep talk or other, but his words stole the breath from her lungs. "Hermione…I know."

She didn't look up. "What do you know, Fred?"

"About…well, about you and Malfoy."

She froze. He didn't know. No one did...

"We all know, well, not all of us but some of us anyway. We know something happened between you two while you were gone. We...George, Lee and I…we were standing outside the room when you were talking to Lucius the night of the battle. Lee didn't want us to barge in because he wanted to mount a surprise attack, so we waited and we heard…" Hermione stiffened, but Fred continued on, his voice low and gentle. "It made sense since you've been, you know... And Ginny knows too…she said something to me…she didn't say it to be meddlesome or anything, she just needed someone to talk to about it and she didn't think you were ready…it's okay if you're not, you don't have to or anything… And we won't say anything, the four of us. We won't tell anyone if you want to keep it quiet. Just...just know you're not alone, alright? I'll-we'll-I'll listen…if you want to talk, that is."

Fred took a deep, shaky breath after his monologue. Hermione was paralyzed but his admission. She couldn't look up from the sliver of gold and hope in her hands. She couldn't face him because she knew she would see that pity in his gaze he often had when looking at her.

A part of her was glad someone knew, it made what they'd shared feel more real. She knew Ginny would eventually let slip to Harry who would tell Ron…it was bound to get out now.

Another darker part of her hated that they knew, the jealous part that wished she could keep the two of them tucked inside her selfishly, the only place they existed anymore. Right here, in her hands was the only place where they had been happy, where two doomed lovers had thrived, had loved and died. The past had given her everything, and then mercilessly ripped it away.

Fred moved as if to get up but Hermione put out a hand, stilling him. She had to swallow several times before she found her voice.

"Please," she barely whispered. "Stay."

He sat back down, close but not touching. She could feel his energy, the heat from his body. The comfort of another human was calming, one who knew where her dark mind was. He wouldn't pry, but at least he wasn't sitting there thinking she had gotten brain damage from the torture that had been inflicted upon her like others must assume.

Her eyes caught a movement to her left and she looked up. She could see him, standing there, bright blonde hair glinting it the sun, a smirk on his beautiful face, pale hands buried deep in his pockets. She started to rise and he disappeared, a mirage. Her imagination.

"Hermione? You alright? What is it?" Fred asked anxiously, looking between her and the empty grounds where she was still staring.

"I-I thought I saw… never mind," she said, sinking and closing her eyes against the cruel world. "It doesn't matter."

His hand covered hers, long fingers clasping her hands which clutched the Time Turner like a life line.

"Hermione...he's gone. Just like Charlie and Perce...they're gone. But we aren't. We're still here, _you_ are still here. We have to move on. For them."

She drew her hands away from his, cradling the necklace to her chest.

"I know," she whispered, keeping her eyes shut tight, hiding from the truth. She could make herself disappear too…

Colors were too painful to bear, warmth, comfort. She couldn't stand it. She wanted to be numb, unfeeling, like him. If she closed her eyes, if she thought back to that time it might just go back, she might go back…she could keep him...

"He didn't choose me." The words fell out of her mouth without even thinking about saying them. But it was true, horribly, achingly true.

Fred said nothing for a long while. Hermione didn't know why she'd told him. Maybe, if she said it out loud, if she reminded herself of that one little fact, it would make the parting more bearable.

"Why would you say something like that?" he finally asked.

"It's the truth. I'm telling you so you know. I offered him sanctuary when we got home. Offered him protection. We could keep him safe, we could be together...but when we came back he threw everything we'd shared back in my face, sneered at me, told me it had all been a farce. And then he went back to them. He didn't choose me."

"Hermione, he gave his life for you, he switched your bodies to keep you safe. He knew Voldemort wanted you dead so he took your place. Do you really believe any of what you just said?"

"He told me-"

"Hermione, they have always said you are the smartest witch of your age, of our generation. So use that beautiful brain. Don't listen to his words, listen to his actions. Did you ever feel a connection? Did he ever do anything to make you think he might love you too? Personally, I think giving your life for someone is a pretty obvious gesture."

She didn't notice she was crying until Fred pressed a handkerchief into her hands which were still clenching the broken necklace as if it alone could heal her heart. She looked down at it but did not move, feeling as if she did she would shatter into a thousand pieces and float off with the breeze.

Slowly, Fred leaned forward and took the cloth, wiping her tears from her face gently. He tilted her chin with the crook of his forefinger and she finally looked up at him, her vision swimming, her pain reflected back to her.

"How could he?" she choked out, her body shuddering beneath the words. "How could he just leave me? It w-wasn't supposed to be like this…I was ready to go, I'd said my good-byes, made my amends…it was _my_ time, _my_ burden to bear, not his! Why would he do it? _WHY?"_

He yanked her into his arms and the comfort was more than she could bear. Sobs wracked her body; she could contain them no longer. Today marked the day she would have to face reality, face the future, a future without Draco...

"I can't do this, I c-can't bear it! I-It's tearing me apart, my heart…it _aches,_ I can't sleep, I can't _think_ …I _need_ him…I need him and he left m-me! He l-left me alone! I hate him! I h-hate him for doing this to me! I hate him, I hate him, _I hate him!"_

He rocked her silently and she clutched at his robes as if her life depended on it. He anchored her to the earth, to life. She had let herself dream of a white gown, of waking next to grey eyes, of growing old, of happiness... They had been so _close_ …how could this have happened?

"I can't," she wept wretchedly, shaking her head. "I can't…not without him…"

"You can," Fred grated out, his voice harsh. "You will."

She moaned in agony. "Why? Why, why, why, why, _why?"_

"Because he loved you more than life itself."

She was screaming, keening wails heaving from her chest, tearing out of her at every memory of his strong arms ripping her away from harm, carrying her when she couldn't carry herself, holding her in the pouring rain against the despair of their situation or against his chest as she writhed in ecstasy. His final words to her before he'd transformed, his final confession, one said too late...

Hermione gasped for air and Fred rubbed her back soothingly.

"He was protecting you, Hermione. This is what he wanted."

"But what about what _I_ wanted? I wanted _him,_ I _need_ him! You don't get it, you don't-" her voice broke and he held her tighter.

"You're right," he said softly. "I don't. I'm hoping I never do."

He rocked her until her sobs settled, mopped her ruddy face as the weight of the world sapped the strength from her body and she was plait as a rag doll under his ministrations. Then the two of them just sat in the snow and silently mourned until a voice spoke from above them.

"Fred, Hermione?" They looked up. Remus stood there, his black dress robes billowing around him in the breeze. "It's time."

Hermione allowed Fred to pull her up and stood on shaky legs. When Fred and Remus waited for her she nodded to urge them forward. She had to do this alone.

She took one last look at the serene winter scene before her, sucking in a final, calming breath before trudging up the snowy slope behind the men, clutching the necklace in her pocket.

They walked to where they had held Dumbledore's ceremony. It felt like an eternity ago. So much had happened since their beloved headmaster had given his life for the cause.

Now, many caskets lined the grounds, the heroes who had followed in his footsteps. Hundreds upon hundreds of people settled into seats, bundled against the cold. Hermione saw her own seat up front between Ron and Harry who were anxiously awaiting her. Hermione was suddenly terrified of that chair. If she sat down, if she listened to Remus' rehearsed words, it would be real.

 _This can't be happening…_

Frozen in place, Hermione looked at the framed pictures that sat on top of gleaming boxes depicting those that lay inside them. Hermione couldn't take her seat between Ron and Harry, it was too surreal. It wasn't where she belonged.

She belonged with him. He wouldn't go through this alone.

Hermione's eyes roamed the pictures, all smiling, waving, nodding. She knew most of them but she couldn't concentrate on those people. Her eyes looked for only one.

There, the very back corner. Someone was talking, the service had begun. Harry had risen and was walking towards her but Hermione turned away from him and trudged through the snow towards her destination. The ground pulled at her shoes, sucking at her, tugging her back as if to say if you don't see, it won't be real. But she had to see, had to know...

His picture mocked her. His grin, the one she had seen so many times, held no heat, no life.

That wasn't him. The real him…it was so much more. She reached out to touch his face. Nothing. She touched only glass. It wasn't enough. She had to see, had to know, for sure.

Hermione grasped the damnable frame and threw it to the ground, shattering his mocking smile. She lifted the heavy wooden lid without touching it, her eyes closed. She could hear gasps, whispers, people murmuring behind her, Remus' voice faltering. She didn't care, they didn't matter.

She opened her eyes. There he laid, a mimic, a facade. Pale…so, so pale. His face held no color against the dress robes someone had put him in. He was still, how could he be so still?

The air left her lungs, left her as he had, alone, frightened. _Not true, not true._ She reached out, fingers hovering above his face, her hand quavering. She sobbed when his skin felt so cold beneath her fingertips. His hair ran through her fingers as it always had, smooth, soft, silky. How could he be here, right here, and be gone?

A keening cry fell from her lips; it was him. Impossibly. She cupped his cheek. The same. He was here, but he was gone.

She needed him, she needed him and here he was, lifeless before her.

"Wake up," she whispered. "Please..."

"Hermione, come on, let's go sit down-" someone grabbed at her arm, pulled.

"No, leave me alone!" she cried, her hands cradling the porcelain face below her.

"Hermione, people are getting upset-"

"I'm here," she breathed to her beloved, her tears falling upon his chest, ignoring the murmurs directly behind her. She had eyes for no one else. "I'm here. Come back to me. Please, _please_ come back. Don't do this, _don't do this to me!"_

Her tears overwhelmed her, she couldn't talk, couldn't think. She was on the edge of hysteria, she knew, but she had no will to bring herself back because here, here, there was a chance. He was here, in her arms, cold, stiff, unrelenting. He had been so in the beginning, but she had broken him, he had finally become the man he was meant to be and now he'd been taken away before he could show the world...

"Hermione, come on, let's go back home."

"No," she whispered, her entire body shaking. "No, go away. _Go away."_

His hands were on her shoulders. "Hermione, he's gone. You have to let him go."

"Stop lying to me," she croaked. "Stop lying, don't lie to me."

He pulled her back again and she screamed in misery, wrenching away, but there were more, more people pulling, pulling her away from the one true thing in her life. Arms wrapped around her as her knees buckled.

"Shh, it's alright," Harry's voice rumbled beneath her cheek.

"It's not," she sobbed. "It's not alright, it's _not!_ It's _never_ going to be! He's gone, he's gone, _oh gods!"_

Harry clutched her tightly, holding her, saving her from herself while Ron placed his hand against her back.

Hermione watched as Remus Levitated the lid back on, repaired the picture, replaced it over Draco's final resting place. She stared at his face one last time, her heart irreparably shattered.

"I love you," she whispered, gazing into grey eyes and both of the boys stiffened.

Harry bent and hefted her her legs into his arms, cradling her to his chest, Ron grabbing his arm. Wordlessly, he turned on the spot and they tore her away from the love of her life.

 _When all the tragedy fades away  
Only the ash and the spark remain  
We live and die by the choice we made _

...

Hermione rolled over in her bed, taking the sheets with her. The bright moon was barely visible behind sheets of white falling silently through the window of the bedroom she still shared with Ginny. She hadn't taken her Sleeping Draught again. Molly would be angry but she didn't care. She was tired of it, tired of being drugged. She'd been so for weeks now. She was done.

"Hermione?"

She looked over at Ginny whose eyes were wide, hugging her comforter.

"Yes?"

Ginny propped herself up on an elbow. "Why haven't you been taking the potions?"

Hermione sighed, apparently her insomnia had not gone without notice. "I don't want to take anymore potions, Gin. It's been long enough. I have to start dealing with this on my own."

Ginny nodded. "Fred told me about before the funeral," she said softly, as if worried about upsetting her. "How you thought he hadn't chosen you..."

"He didn't. I begged him to come here, to stay with me... But he told me everything we had shared had been a lie, said cruel things, pushed me away..."

Ginny's eyebrow wrinkled in confusion. "How did he do that? He seemed pretty damn in love when he tucked you in that night."

Hermione raised herself on her own elbow, freeing her other ear to be sure she heard correctly.

"What night?"

"The night before the battle. Remember? I figured you snuck out to be with him and fell asleep. He brought you back, tucked you in and everything. Didn't you wonder why you woke up in bed?"

Her breath fell short. "Ginny, I never left my bed that night. I didn't see Draco after we got back until the day of the battle when he gave me the Polyjuice Potion..."

"What are you talking about? I watched him bring you in. He was kneeling right there," she pointed to the floor in front of Hermione's bed. "He said...well…"

Hermione shot up, staring at her friend in disbelief. "What? What did he say?"

She looked embarrassed. "'I'll always be with you.'"

Hermione shook her head, her heart clenching. "Ginny, he never-"

Hermione suddenly felt as though she had been socked in the stomach, her head spinning, a roaring headache squeezing at her temples. Then, in a rush, everything came back, every scene of their last night, their lovemaking, the dinner, their confessions. Hermione gasped from the brutal force of it, clutching for her bedside table as she tumbled to the floor.

"Hermione! Hermione, what's wrong? I'm getting mum, I'll be-"

"No, no, I'm fine. Oh gods, Ginny," Hermione grabbed her friend's arm and looked up at her. "I remember. He drugged me, he drugged me so I wouldn't remember, so that when I went to battle I would just think, _oh gods!"_

Hermione grabbed her stomach and nearly cried out. Her period had come and gone. There was no child. Never in her life had she wanted a baby young, but she was saddened to think she might have had one of Draco's. She might have been able to keep a piece of him...

"He had thought I was pregnant. He came to stop me from going, but I wouldn't listen to him. Baby or not, I was going to do it."

"Hermione, _are you?"_ Ginny's eyes were round as dinner plates.

"No," she said sadly, still clutching her belly. She allowed Ginny to help her back into bed and they sat there together, Ginny watching her carefully.

"Hermione?"

"Hmm?"

"Will you tell me about him? About how it all happened?"

Hermione almost said no, it would be too hard. But a part of her wanted to, wanted to relive the short life she and Draco had shared together. So she patted the bed beside her and Ginny crawled under the covers, the two girls laid down facing each other.

"Well, at first it was like normal. He hated me, I hated him, we were bickering constantly. The first kind of turnaround was probably when I tried to rescue him from the gallows."

"Tell me about that! It sounds so exciting!"

Hermione laughed for the first time since that last night she had shared with Draco, remembering her foolish attempt to wield a sword.

"It was. Well, I told him that we couldn't Apparate to London since we didn't know the area but the prat stole the Time Turner and decided to do it anyway. So the imbecile ends up landing on some poor old man's dining room table and gets himself arrested…"

Hermione talked and talked. She told Ginny everything, sparing her the most intimate details, of course. They laughed, they sighed, they cried. When the tale drew to a close Hermione turned to look at Ginny who was sound asleep.

Hermione glanced at the apple sitting on her bedside table, the necklace draped over it, the Eripio stone beside it. Closing her eyes she sent her goodnight wishes to Draco and finally drifted off to sleep, a plan already formulating in her ever busy mind.

 _In another lifetime  
In some forgotten dream  
In another lifetime  
Maybe it was meant to be _

...

A/N: Lyrics from "In Another Lifetime" by Zoe Sky Jordan. I do not own the rights to this material nor do I make money by posting it here.

XOXO

RynStar15


	34. Chapter 34

_Ten years later..._

"Test number twelve thirty-six: the time is twenty-three thirty-five on fifteen September, two thousand and nine. My name is Hermione Granger, Unspeakable number fourteen ninety-seven and I will be documenting for the remainder of this recording."

Hermione took a deep breath. This was it, it was finally here. After a decade of planning and researching, sleepless nights experimenting, endless failures and jubilant successes, she was finally here.

She took a moment to re-check her bag for the seventh time in the last hour, making sure every single document she'd scrupulously written was inside. She lovingly fingered the one book which had made all of this possible, smiling.

It was the only book which had survived about the invention of Time Turners; every other documentation, hundreds of years of research, had been incinerated. The Time Chamber sector of the Department of Mysteries had been closed for years before Hermione arrived, mere months after the final battle. As a war heroine, she'd had endless opportunities opened up for her, though her sights had been set on only one. Thankfully, as her work as an Unspeakable was, well, _unspeakable,_ none of her friends had any idea that she'd spent the last ten years after the war recreating the Time Turner.

She knew it was crazy, she'd thought about calling off her venture myriad times, but she'd always returned, sneaking to her office at ungodly hours to continue her work. No matter how hard she tried she couldn't give up; she couldn't rid herself of the nagging sensation between her shoulder blades, the one that told her that something had gone horribly wrong that fateful night and she wouldn't rest until it was righted.

Everyone else had moved on. Harry and Ginny were awaiting their second child, Ron had finally given up his attempts to court her and married a beautiful Hungarian girl he'd met when he'd gone to continue the work his brother Charlie had started. Her other friends had similarly paired up and had babies, all of them urging her to do the same. But her mind was set on only one goal.

Tonight, she had finally achieved that goal.

The trial testing had gone spectacularly, she'd never had such perfect results before. Of course, she was still nervous with this final test, but she'd cut out every single variable possible to make the jump successful. She would land at the exact same second, minute, hour, and day as now, changing only the year as the single surviving book had explained as the safest course for final testing.

Hermione could perfectly remember the day the book had come into her life. After securing her position as an intern, she'd jumped through every hoop to gain trust and good standing before inquiring about the Time Travel program. Saul Croaker, a friend of Arthur's who had happily taken up her interest as an Unspeakable, had taken her down to the locked wing, explaining that every bit of research had been destroyed when fellow Unspeakables attempted to break the loop of the endlessly falling Time Turners. No one was certain exactly what had happened that day, but the entire chamber had exploded, killing everyone within, decimating every necklace, and burning every single document. Except for this.

He'd lifted the book from its podium where it sat gleaming, not a trace of dust or soot upon its emerald surface. It had obviously been protected by a powerful magic, something far beyond the preservation spells put mandatorily on every research paper in the department. Hermione could feel the immense power thrumming from the book as it was placed into her hands and she stroked it reverently.

"Unfortunately, no one can open the damn thing," Croaker chuckled morosely. Hermione's heart fell as she looked up at the older man with defeated eyes.

"What do you mean?"

"Well, whatever spell kept it from being blown to smithereens must be keeping it locked. No one has been able to figure out how to open it. We think there's supposed to be a key, see that round depression in the middle there? Only no one knows what the devil it might be!"

Knowing her greatest hope in saving Draco lay in her hands, determination swept through her. Hermione requested to keep the book in her office temporarily so she could try various methods to crack the mystery on her breaks. He'd agreed with a laugh, though stating that she was wasting her time.

She'd struggled with the damnable thing for weeks, sneaking it from the department and taking it to the room she now lived in at Grimmauld Place with Harry, Ron, and Ginny. After the night she'd broken through the haze of the potion, she'd moved to the room where she and Draco had spent their last night together. She'd told Harry it was because she needed her own space, only Ginny knew the real reason why she'd suddenly wanted to move into the grimy upper floors.

It wasn't until late one night as she sat up at her desk, rolling her Guardian stone over and over in her hand compulsively while glaring at the tome, did it come to her.

It had hit her like a blow to the gut. Glancing from the stone in her hand to the book before her, her heart pounded as she slowly lowered the black and gold artifact to the circular depression, crying out in delight as it fit perfectly and the book seemed to sigh, glowing gold, and snapping open.

Ron had thundered into her room, wand raised at her scream, thinking she was being attacked. She'd quickly Disillusioned the book on the table and made up some excuse about figuring out a formula for work. The poor boy slumped against her doorframe, hand on chest, and she'd had to make him a cup of tea to settle his nerves, dousing it with enough Calming Draught that she'd had to tuck him back into bed while he grinned like a fool.

Hermione had hurried back to the book and been brought to tears reading the inscription on the front page, a note to "The Protector of the Future Sent from the Past."

Alvida had written it for her. Inside was every single iota of research the woman had done in her development of the Time Turner, meticulously explaining every failure, victory, trial, and thought.

Hermione had raced into work the next day, proclaiming her victory to Croaker who had swung her around his office before dragging her straight up to Minister Kingsley who had instantly bestowed yet another Order of Merlin upon her and granted her a team and funding to re-open the Time Travel Department, the chamber now named after her. She had requested a small team of three (though they'd urged her to take more) and they were all handpicked by Hermione and sworn to the highest levels of secrecy. One of the girl's eyebrows shot into her hairline when Hermione told them about Marietta Edgecomb's current makeup regime.

Hermione did a majority of the work herself, of course, only relying on the others as a last resort. With her known enthusiasm for academia, no one seemed to think twice about her deranged obsession. None of her researchers had any knowledge of her relationship with Draco or her foray into the past during the war and she kept it that way. Outside her research team, only Croaker and Kingsley knew what she was up to and though Kingsley had dragged her into his office many times over the years, she had assured him her work was only for the greater good.

On the outside, she was seemingly back to the normal, work-aholic Hermione Granger everyone had known from Hogwarts. Though her friends nagged her about her lack of romantic life, all she had to do was light up her eyes about how wonderfully her research was going and how she couldn't possibly have time for one anyways and they'd just shake their heads and laugh at her antics.

She attended the necessary functions; the dinners at the Weasley's, holiday parties, nights out with friends. She led her false life with a smile on her face and a laugh in her voice, but deep inside she was still trapped in that forest where she'd lived with Draco.

Ten years. Ten long, endless years, and yet the ache of his loss had yet to lessen. Only the knowledge that she'd be with him again someday drove her forward, her obsession consuming her life.

Hermione continued articulating her information into the floating wand before her as she flitted about her office, making sure she had absolutely everything she needed. Checking her bag yet again she signed off as usual and tucked her wand atop the folds of Harry's stolen Invisibility Cloak, noticing the shaking of her hand as she did so.

 _Breathe, Hermione,_ she thought, closing her eyes and doing so. _It's finally here, everything you've worked for. You've thought everything through, this will work. You'll be with him soon._ She brought her mind to the inscription that had been written at the bottom of the letter of her sacred book, penned by Alvida herself. They were first words she spoke every morning and the last she spoke every night.

"I mark the hours, every one," she chanted, the words a soothing balm. "Nor have I yet outrun the sun. My use and value, unto you, are gauged by what you have to do."

 _You know what you have to do._

With a smile on her face she whipped Harry's stolen invisibility cloak around herself and turned on the spot, Apparating into the night.

…

Hermione looked up at the opulent manor she'd visited many times over the years. She knew a Muggle family lived here and she smiled at the tire-swing hanging off a tree in the yard. Galoshes were stacked by the door, a toy truck left carelessly in the grass. The lights were all off now, everyone obviously having gone to bed as it was a school night. Hermione thought back to the days when she had been like them, when her life had been nothing more than school and hopscotch and endless stories about heroes and knights and wizards. Now she'd seen all of those things and it was incredible to her that the people beyond those walls knew nothing about any of them.

With one last fond gaze at the home, she slung her bag onto her shoulder and dug her perfected Time Turner out of her robes, setting the date to 1237, nearly a year after she and Draco had left.

Taking a steading breath, she flipped it.

Hermione felt the heart-dropping sensation of flying backwards and in a whirl of wind she landed and looked up at the house before her.

It was now a modest, though beautifully crafted, two story. A freezing wind whipped through her and frost covered the packed dirt beneath her. It was much colder here than the France she had left behind. A stench of human filth hovered in the thin mist and she was quickly reminded that indoor plumbing was a truly magical thing.

Her stomach twisted with nerves but the bitter cold had her climbing the five steep steps to the door with a heavy gold knocker. Taking a deep breath, she lifted the knob hanging below a gilded lion's head and banged it loudly against the door, the sound ringing through the deserted town street which was eerily dark without the light of lamps that would come in later years. Quick steps sounded inside and Hermione set her shoulders, drawing her Gryffindor courage.

Locks clicked and the door opened the tiniest crack, a pale blue eye poking through.

" _Qui vous est? Que voulez-vous?"_

Hermione cursed inwardly. She couldn't speak French, but she got the gist from his worried voice. "My name is Hermione, Hermione Granger. Is your mistress home?"

She could see in his one eye that he didn't comprehend a single word she'd said any more than she'd understood him. Mentally chiding herself for not considering the language barrier, she began to repeat herself when a voice came from inside, a familiar voice than warmed Hermione even in the bone-chilling cold.

 _"Gilaude? Qui est à la porte?"_

 _"Je ne suis pas sûr, le coup manqué, une jeune dame anglaise. A donné un nom de Hermione,"_ the man named Gilaude spoke to the woman behind him.

"Hermione? _Etes-vous sûr?"_

The door suddenly swung wide and Alvida Eynon stood before her, her fiery red hair tied into a thick braid, clutching her white night robe tightly around her. She gasped and hurried over the threshold, enveloping Hermione in a motherly hug.

"Oh my dear! You're finally here! Come, come in out of the cold, you must be freezing! _Gilaude, s'il vous plaît faire quelque thé et l'amène dans la pièce de dessin avec une couverture de laine du placard de hall."_

Gilaude muttered a quick _"Oui, la maîtresse!"_ and hurried off while Alvida urged her through a glossy door and into an elegant sitting room. She pressed Hermione into a burgundy and mahogany settee and bent over a fire while Hermione shivered. Although out of the wind, the house was still chilly. Apparently, Warming Charms were not yet in affect for the thirteenth century.

"I apologize," Alvida said, sending her familiar kind smile her way, setting a tinder to flame. "I must do this the long way. Poor Gilaude is unaware that his mistress is a witch and I would not want to worry him overly."

Indeed, the wispy man looked old enough to be Alvida's grandfather, but he moved with efficient swiftness as he tucked a thick wool blanket around her shoulders and hurried about the room, lighting candles before he flew back out through another door.

"The tea should be ready in a moment," Alvida said, rising once the fire was crackling merrily sitting beside Hermione, dragging her hands into her own, and gazing at her fondly before her face fell.

"You have aged, Hermione," she noted, stroking the small creases at the corner of her left eye. "The years have not been kind to you."

Hermione felt her breath catch and swallowed back the tears that threatened at her statement though she bit them back, knowing she'd cried more than enough for this lifetime. "No, Alvida. They have not."

The older woman gazed at her in sorrow. "I am so sorry, my dear. How long has it been since-?"

"Ten years," Hermione replied quietly, her face falling, not able to stand the pity welling in Alvida's gaze.

"Oh, my dear girl," she sighed mournfully. "Ten years without him must have felt an eternity."

Hermione jerked up at her words, staring at the woman in disbelief. "You know?"

Alvida nodded morosely. "Yes, I knew Draco's fate should the two of you return. I think that even he understood in some way. That is why I gave you the choice."

Hermione shook her head confusedly. "Choice?"

Alvida read her face and sighed again. "He didn't tell you. No, I can see now that he wouldn't have wanted to put that burden on your shoulders."

"Burden?"

"I informed Draco that should the two of you return to your own time that it would be full of sorrow for the both of you," Alvida explained sadly. "I gave him the choice to remain in my time where the two of you could be together or to return to fulfil the prophecy. I knew you would return, however, because that is who you are. You carried out your destiny as you were meant to do and you have had to suffer the consequences alone."

Hermione turned away from the painful words and stared into the roaring flames in the hearth. The one thing she had wanted all these long years had been stolen away from her. Draco had chosen not to tell her of Alvida's warning, of her suggestion to do the very thing Hermione had wished they'd done all those years ago. If he had, if they'd chosen to stay there together, they could even now be living happily, hidden from the world in the woods, possibly watching their children explore amongst the trees. They could have spent the last ten years lying in each other's arms night after night instead of Hermione alone in her bed and Draco in a cold grave.

But she knew Alvida was right; Hermione would have returned regardless of the offer. She never would have tossed aside her duty to Harry and the rest of the world to help end the war. Even in this heartbreaking moment she did not regret her decision, knowing that it had led to Voldemort's downfall. If she had been given the choice all those years ago, the regret from that decision might have killed her after Draco's death. Even then he had been protecting her, saving her from an impossible choice. He had shouldered that burden alone, knowing what it would have cost her to be forced to decide. He'd done everything for her...

Gilaude strode back in with a silver tray laden with a steaming tea kettle, porcelain cups, and biscuits. Alvida thanked him in her smooth French and he bowed himself out. Alvida reached over and poured the dark tea into the elegant cups and handed one to Hermione.

"Sugar?" she asked. Hermione shook her head. She needed the sharp shock to her system. Her head was still reeling from what she had heard.

Alvida's lips were pressed together sadly as she handed Hermione her tea, her own hands falling into her lap. "I am so sorry for the pain you have had to endure, Hermione. Your life has not been an easy one. That is why I began writing the book."

Hermione looked up at her in awe which Alvida mistook for shock. "You found it, did you not?"

Wordlessly, she reached down into the bag at her feet pulled the tome out. Alvida smiled, looking down at it. "It has grown. I hope it served you well."

"I wouldn't be here without it," she said, her voice thick with tears. "I am so grateful..."

"It is I who is grateful to you," Alvida said, placing her hand on Hermione's arm. "You have given my life purpose. Your strength and courage has made all of this possible. I would never have put forth the effort I have in perfecting the Time Turner without the burning desire to see you put it to use."

"Do you mean to say...you did this...for _me?"_ Hermione asked breathlessly, overwhelmed.

The beautiful witch smiled tightly. "Yes, Hermione. I knew the sorrow you would feel once Draco was gone. I have never seen two souls so interwoven. You were not meant to be without one another. You were empty before he loved you and he was naught but an echo before you brought him to life. Your two destinies, both entwined, were at war with one another. This is the only way we can fulfill them both. I assume you are here to ask for my assistance?" she asked, at Hermione's bewildered features.

"Yes," she whispered, her head whirling at Alvida's words. "Our destinies, you said two..."

Alvida met her eye. "You two were meant to be together. You were destined to be Guardians. We do not give out those stones lightly, my dear."

Hermione eyed her, bewildered. "What are you saying?"

"Guardians are created in pairs. Once you find your mate, your powers may finally be fully unleashed. Did you not notice that after you and Draco became one you were able to do magic you'd never imagined?"

Dumbstruck, Hermione nodded.

"It is how I came to be as powerful as I am. When I met Phillipe, I knew there was something special about our connection. His mother was a Guardian as well and he knew the moment he saw me. It took him much longer to convince me than it took Draco to convince you," Alvida grinned, her eyes sparkling with the memories as Hermione blushed.

"You mean Comte le Brun?" Hermione sputtered, wishing to overlook how quickly she'd fallen for Draco's charm, and Alvida nodded. "I thought you didn't meet him until you- well, _Constancia-_ was in France?"

"There is no record of our relationship," she explained. "We were never able to wed properly, though I had always hoped someday…"

"Where is he now?" Hermione asked, looking toward the doorway as if the man might materialize suddenly.

"We have been separated for many years," she said, the words obviously painful. "Not long after Phillipe and I became Guardians I was drawn to Sari and Milo. They had already come together, though they had no idea what their power meant. After I taught them I became reckless, throwing caution to the winds in my pursuit of other likes us. Phillipe urged me to be more vigilant, but went along with my desires, relying on my heightened Senses in order to find and train more like us. Unfortunately, this garnered me much attention from the Trackers. We were hunted. One night it became particularly violent. I was viciously attacked while I was with child. Phillipe worked on us for so long but he couldn't save…"

Alvida was forced to swallow several times before she was able to speak again, the memory obviously difficult. Hermione's breath caught at the knowledge of Alvida's loss. She reached out her hand to comfort the older woman who put on a brave front and continued, squeezing Hermione's hand tightly. "Phillipe begged me to stay hidden and after everything… I couldn't refuse him. He built that cabin for me, put every enchantment possible on it. When I grew restless, he began making records of my dreams and prophecies and slipped away in the dead of night to pursue them on his own, begging me to stay hidden as my power was too important to lose. We correspond frequently; each vision sends him on another mission. Until now, it had been too dangerous for me to come out of hiding. Thanks to you and Draco, we can once again be reunited. He is set to arrive in a fortnight, he will be most aggrieved to have missed you."

Hermione took a moment to digest all of this new information. Alvida's hardships pained her, but she was glad to know that she'd done something to alleviate some of that agony. She knew that Alvida had a daughter almost instantly after being wed to the Comte and that comforted her knowing that her friend would soon be graced with the motherhood the Trackers had stolen from her.

"So, our second destiny was to be Guardians?" Hermione asked, still confused.

"Yes, Hermione," she said soothingly. "That is why you were brought here, to this time. In your own time you would never have come together being as torn apart as you were. You needed to find each other, to see what you could be together. Sari, Milo, and I…we were here to help you realize that potential. When I saw your prophecy, I knew you were from the future, that is why I began my work on the Time Turner. It wasn't until the night Milo and Sari informed me of your arrival was I struck with your second. Even Milo saw you for what you were before I, that is why he gave Draco that stone. I had known your destinies were important, but I was not prepared for what I saw. Tell me, Hermione, have there been stirrings lately, Dark magic cropping up once more?"

"Yes," she whispered, shocked that Alvida knew what had made Harry and the rest of the Aurors even more harried that usual. Random Muggle murders with no leads, Muggle-borns found brutally slaughtered in their beds, whispers across the country of another uprising…

"Hermione, I am afraid your battle is far from over," the older witch informed her, making Hermione's heart sink. "The Eripio has been extinguished for hundreds of years. You and Draco are the only ones who can bring them back, who can put an end to this coming darkness before it even takes hold. It is imperative that we save him."

"You'll help me?" Hermione asked breathlessly, her fingers tightening on the porcelain still sitting in her lap.

"Yes, Hermione," Alvida said, the words washing over her like a flood of heat. "We must save Draco if we are to prevent the darkness from taking over once more after you fought so hard to be rid of it. Your powers will grow beyond anything you can possibly imagine. Together, you will do great things, even greater than what you have already done with recreating the Time Turner. I will do anything in my power to see that you fulfill this last prophecy."

Tears broke through Hermione's carefully constructed dam and coursed down her face unchecked, more moved than she'd ever been. The daunting news of yet more fighting was overcome by the image of Draco in her arms once more and the knowledge that her instincts had steered her true. Draco was meant to be with her, they were meant to be together, the fate of the world relied on her and Alvida undoing what had been done all those years ago.

"Thank you," Hermione breathed, overcome with gratitude, unable to think of anything else she could say that would be adequate for the gift Alvida was giving her. "Thank you."

Alvida pulled the wretched girl into her arms. "It pains me to see you so, Hermione, but your suffering is almost over. Now, drink that tea right up, I will have Gilaud prepare a room for you. You need some decent rest before we begin planning. Gilaud!"

Hermione took a sip of her now cold tea. A wave of serenity hit her instantly and she knew it had been laced. She gladly drank the rest down while Alvida spoke rapidly to her servant who quickly moved to do her bidding, calling out orders to others as he hurried up the stairs.

Already feeling lethargic, Hermione allowed herself to be pulled her to her feet.

"Come, my dear, you will rest dreamlessly and on the morrow we will begin our preparations."

Hermione smiled happily, the euphoria from the tea easing her tense muscles and peeling apart the constant ball of grief that was lodged in her chest. Alvida gave her one more swift hug before dragging her upstairs to a room whose fireplace was already roaring, a maid tucking a hot water bottle between the sheets while Gilaud strode over to her, a nightgown in his arms.

Alvida dismissed them and left herself after placing a comforting hand against Hermione's cheek, her eyes full of emotion.

As the door clicked closed behind her, Hermione sank to the floor, overcome by happiness. She had been so worried Alvida would reject her plan, would fight her, tell her it was against every rule of Time Travel. But instead she'd welcomed her with open arms, having orchestrated the entire thing. A sob wrenched from her chest as relief enveloped her.

She was going to see Draco again.

…

A/N: Apologies for the wait. I used Google Translate for the French, if it is incorrect I would appreciate someone pointing it out! Hope you are enjoying, let me know you thoughts on this adventure!

XOXO  
RynStar15


	35. Chapter 35

Hermione bathed languidly in the now tepid water while the maid watched on in horror. Hermione smiled knowing the superstitions of the time. She indulged in this small comfort, calmer than she'd felt since the last time she'd lain in Draco's arms. Her heart clenched at the memory and though her stomach twisted with nerves, she was confident in her plan and knew it was only a short time before all of the pain she'd suffered would be eradicated.

When she rose, the maid covered her quickly with a flimsy cloth, chattering in terrified French and rubbing her arms and legs roughly. She pulled her into all the underskirts and petticoats before tugging a dark blue dress over her head. It had a square neckline intricately woven with a black flower design and a heavy black belt that came around her. The maid smoothed it while Hermione grinned at the luxurious (though too-large) garment and pressed her into a chair where she tried to pull a thin bristle brush through her thick hair, grumbling, while Hermione tried not to laugh. She couldn't even remember the last time she'd brushed her hair out, usually just whipping it immediately into a bun once she was out of the shower.

Hermione looked up when Alvida entered the room. She excused the maid and took up the brush herself, gazing at the younger woman in the small mirror before her.

"The dress hangs on you more than last time I saw you."

Hermione averted her eyes. She knew she'd lost weight. She rarely remembered to eat and even then it was never more than toast or an apple on her way out the door, especially lately as she'd gotten so close to finishing the necklace. She looked like hell, to be quite frank. But she hadn't found reason to care.

Alvida fixed the dress silently and commenced the brushing of her hair.

"We'll need to be careful."

"I understand."

"We'll need to make a plan."

"I have everything planned out already, everything we'll need is in the bag I brought," Hermione explained. "I've thought of nothing else for ten years."

Alvida's lips thinned. "I am certain you have devised an adequate strategy; however, I must instill upon you the magnitude of this venture. If we change anything else, if we are seen, the consequences could be dire for us both."

"I am aware, I've done this before."

The brushing stilled for just a moment while she eyed Hermione in the mirror. "I am going to pretend that I didn't hear that."

Hermione smiled softly. "We saved two lives that night, Harry and I. I was given a Time-Turner in my third year of school so I could attend extra courses. But when Dumbledore suggested their rescue, I couldn't refuse. I felt so guilty afterwards I turned in the Time Turner right away and cut down my studies. I told the boys it was because it was too much work, but I never told them how much I felt I had let myself down, how I had let Professor McGonagall down, and all the wizards who thought I was responsible enough to use it. Don't get me wrong, if I could go back and do it again, I would. Sirius and Buckbeak didn't deserve the hands they were dealt. Just like Draco."

Alvida sighed. "You have a beautiful soul, Hermione. I look forward to seeing what you do when it is mended once more. Although I must admit, that is not the reason I invented the Time Turner. Understand that this must be the last time, Hermione."

She nodded in understanding. She would have no use for the Time Turner once Draco was with her once more.

When she'd finally pulled through the last tangle, Alvida led her to a grand dining room. While they ate, Hermione began explaining the plan. Alvida listened quietly and they remained at the table long after their plates were cleared. Hermione dragged out all the rolls of parchment she had detailing time frames, layouts of rooms. She even dug out her Pensieve, much to Alvida's delight, and they dove in, Hermione walking her around her memories, explaining every angle. The older witch had been in tears when she saw the state Hermione was in and gripped her hand fiercely when she watched Draco being struck down.

When they'd returned, Alvida had pulled Hermione into a long embrace. "Oh, my dear, the pain you have endured..."

Hermione shook her head. "It doesn't matter. It will be worth it in the end."

They were served lunch, having to shove away the documents when the maid brought out their dishes, but they worked straight through their meal, only the darkening of the sky outside and the numerous times they'd had to add wood to the fireplace marking the time.

After they'd finished dinner, Alvida pulled Hermione into the parlor to practice the intricate magic that would be required. They were both worn by the time they'd decided to call it quits and Gilaud served them tea, Hermione reveling in the calm that stole over her once more.

Three more days were spent thusly, diving into memories to practice timing and back home to practice spellwork. The two women sat in companionable silence after the end of the fourth night, a customary mug of laced tea in Hermione's hands.

"We shall depart first thing on the morrow," Alvida said. "I know you are eager, but you need all the rest you can get. I wish you would stay a while, get your strength back..."

Hermione shook her head. "I can't, I can't slow down, not now, not when I'm so close. I'm ready, I will not let you down."

Alvida smiled. "I would never doubt you."

The friends parted and Hermione sank gratefully into the already warm bed, falling eagerly into a dreamless sleep.

...

Anxiety gripped Hermione's stomach when she awoke, jolting up, panting. She tamped down the lingering image of Draco's sightless eyes, the familiar nightmare fading. The waiting maid did not comment, simply stepped forward with her dress in hand and pointed to a small wash basin. She cleaned hastily and allowed the girl to pull on her dress before hurrying down to the dining room where Alvida pressed breakfast on her. Hermione could barely choke the food down, but did so until the older witch was satisfied and they rose.

Hermione followed her to the front hall where she explained to Gilaud that they were leaving and he fetched them cloaks. Outside, Alvida once again shrank Hermione's to fit her better and she led her down the dark street to a cemetery Hermione explained was still similar in the present and they were therefore unlikely to be disturbed on their trip.

They stepped up to a chosen tree and Alvida turned to her. "Are you ready?"

"Yes," Hermione said, steeling herself, clenching her trembling hands. She'd thought of this moment endlessly and now that it was finally here, she could hardly breathe through the fear. What if it didn't work?

Alvida could see the doubt in her eyes. "Worry not, Hermione. You are a strong witch, stronger than you know. You will be with Draco soon."

"Thank you," she whispered, clutching Alvida's hands in desperate gratitude. "For everything. Thank you."

"Anything for you, my dear girl," Alvida said and pulled her into one last hug before Hermione looped the necklace around their necks and set the Time Turner while Alvida covered them with the Invisibility Cloak.

"Ready?" Hermione asked, checking to ensure their feet were covered.

"As ever."

She pushed all lingering doubt out of her mind as they whirled in a gust of wind and they landed quietly in the dark cemetery of the future, the chilly night pressing in on them. Alvida smiled down at her, impressed at her perfected Time Turner and Hermione felt a sense of pride. If she had not only recreated, but _improved_ time travel, she could damn well save Draco.

Hermione looped the necklace from Alvida before gripping her arm and Apparating to the now empty drawing room in the Malfoy Manor, checking her watch to make sure they were on time. Hermione let out a sigh of relief and nodded to Alvida.

They waited with bated breath, Alvida having to duck slightly to keep their feet covered beneath the cloak. Hermione glanced out the open door to the entrance hall. It was empty but for the sounds of battle from upstairs echoing down. After a few moments, in which her heart threatened to jump from her chest, she heard sounds of Apparation from the front hall and Dean Thomas screaming for help before racing into the room with Hermione's mangled form. Though they'd seen this scene dozens of times, Alvida's breath caught at the sight and Hermione couldn't blame her. It was so much worse actually being here as opposed to watching a memory.

They waited silently for the scene before them to unfold, Alvida clutching her arm tightly while Hermione waited breathlessly for their moment. As the bodies switched, Hermione caught her eye and she nodded.

The instant the forsaken lovers began to disappear Hermione was already turning, the four of them landing simultaneously, their Apparation being masked by the _pop!_ of the other two and Draco/Hermione's cry of pain.

Hermione let out a silent, shuddering breath as no one looked up, their presence went unnoticed by the other occupants, continuing the event she knew by rote. Alvida squeezed her hand for a brief moment in support before raising her hands in preparation as they waited wordlessly.

Hermione felt herself begin to shake as Draco/Hermione rose and went to Voldemort. Alvida gave her a single nod, she was ready. And as Voldemort raised his wand Hermione waited anxiously, every fiber of her being at the ready.

 _"Avada Kedavra!"_

As the last syllable left his lips Alvida struck, a slight _boom_ knocking them back a step as the scene froze, not a hair before them twitched. Hermione let out a shuddering breath, whipping off the cloak and rushing forward. Her heart caught seeing the bolt of green halfway to its mark, the anguished look on her own teenage face.

 _"Geminio!"_ she muttered, creating an exact replica of her broken past self. Hermione quickly surveyed her work, ensuring not a bit of clothing was out of place, that every scratch was exactly the same, before switching their places with a spell rather than moving them personally so that every nuance was exactly the same. Hermione looked back to Alvida who nodded, tight lipped, and Hermione knew she needed to hurry as the spell was draining the woman. Levitating Draco, she flipped him to a standing position and Alvida took the weight of the spell into her right hand and with a small grunt, ran her left over Draco who slumped even more, his body boneless as she put him in a deep sleep. Hermione was grateful he was in her much smaller body as she and Alvida took his weight between them, her heart skipping once her arm was around him. She wanted more than anything to wake him, to bury her face in his shoulder and feel his arms around her, even if they weren't his. But the danger was not over yet.

She _Accio_ -ed the Invisibility Cloak back over them, making sure they were completely covered before she raised her left hand and nodded to Alvida.

She dropped the spell and the green light hit. With a wave of Hermione's hand, the fake body slumped, a flick of her wrist and the eyes turned glassy and dull. Grief hit her like a punch to the stomach watching the rest of the scene unfold, tears springing to her eyes and she gripped Draco ever harder while her nineteen-year-old self howled in anguish. He was here, right here now, he was safe. It was almost over.

Snape appeared suddenly and engaged Voldemort in fight and Hermione gripped Alvida's dress tightly on the other side of Draco, preparing.

"Go, Draco! Take her and go!"

As imposter Draco gripped the fake body tightly, Hermione squeezed her eyes shut and she and her past self Apparated synchronously. However, her current self opened her eyes to the dark and empty living room of the Weasley's rather than the entrance hall of the manor. It was crucial that everything continue as before. Her past self would have to believe she'd lost Draco and take to her murderous rampage.

Looking around the familiar room, Hermione cried out in delight and whipped off the cloak. They had done it, they were here!

She could see Alvida smiling out of the corner of her eye as they eased the broken form between them to the couch, laying it down gently.

"I'll keep him under until he changes back," Alvida reminded her as Hermione knelt at the body that looked so like her own. They had decided days ago to keep him under until he was back in his own, undamaged body to spare him the agony of Hermione's injuries. She nodded shakily and placed her hand on her own, knowing Draco was beneath, knowing he was safe, he was alive.

She felt the creeping claws of hysteria itching to grab hold, but she pressed them back. She couldn't afford to break down, not yet. They still had a long night ahead.

"And you're sure we won't be found here?" Alvida asked anxiously, looking around them at the dark room.

"I'm sure, the entire family is at the battle, they won't be back until long after we've left." Hermione turned to her mentor. "Are you alright? I know that spell was draining."

Alvida nodded. "Nothing a couple of winks won't cure."

"I'll make you some tea," Hermione offered, knowing her friend still had a lot of magic to do that night. Alvida nodded and settled herself in a chair while Hermione bustled in the kitchen, adding Pepper-Up potion to Alvida's tea for strength. She pressed the drink into her grateful hands then lit the room and started a fire. With a tired sigh, Hermione returned to the floor beside Draco.

"Thank you," she whispered again.

"Anything for family."

Hermione snapped around. "What?" she asked breathlessly.

"Come, Hermione," Alvida smiled. "Surely you've made the connection? Not just any witch can unravel the secrets of time. It runs in our blood."

"But...but...I'm Muggle-born," she said. "My parents can't do magic, no one in my family..."

"Yes," she said sadly. "Unfortunately, that happens sometimes. But it seems to have found its spark again in you."

Hermione's head reeled with this information. Alvida Eynon was her ancestor, that's where she had gotten her magic. It was unbelievable, but it made sense with the connection they had built so readily, the way that their magic flowed so well together.

Pondering this new discovery, Hermione sat stock-still at her vigil beside Draco, refusing to take her eyes off him because if she did, he might fade away. She still couldn't believe that he was here, beside her. He didn't look like himself, but she could feel the bond that pulled her to him.

It seemed an eternity, but eventually his skin began to bubble, his body lengthened, the gashes and broken bones healed and Hermione was grateful for Alvida's comforting hand on her shoulder.

A small sob broke forth from her lips as Draco lay before her, whole and uninjured, his chest rising and falling gently. Taking a deep breath, she looked to Alvida to remove the spell.

"It will take him a few moments to wake," the witch warned and Hermione nodded, her hand clenching his tightly, her stomach twisting at the familiar feel of their twined fingers.

Alvida placed her hands over his chest, silver light lifting from his body and into her palms and he took a shuddering breath, though his eyes remained closed. It took an endless minute before he finally stirred, his eyes opening lethargically, his face turning to hers. His grey eyes locked on her and Hermione couldn't contain the sob that burst from her, her shuddering hand coming to his face.

"Draco..." she whispered. He looked at her disoriented for a moment before his eyes snapped open and he shot up, dragging her to him.

 _"Hermione!_ Gods, Hermione, are you alright?" he yanked her back frantically, taking in her appearance. She let out a small laugh of utter joy as he looked her up and down in confusion. "You're not injured." She shook her head, unable to trust to her voice as he eyed her dress. "And you're-"

He noticed for the first time that someone else was in the room and looked up, cursing. "Alvida! What are you-?"

"There is much to explain, Draco," she said softly. "For now, why don't you take care of your young woman. She has gone through a great deal for you to be here."

Hermione was now crying harshly and he looked down at her in concern and confusion, pulling her back into his arms, hushing her gently, but she couldn't stop. Her nails dug into his skin and she buried her face into his neck.

"It's you," she choked. "You're here, please, tell me-"

"I'm here," he muttered, gripping her tightly, comforting her though he must be plagued with questions. "I'm here and I'm never going to leave your side, never again."

The world ceased to exist but for Draco. He was there, alive. Her body shook with the knowledge.

"Shh," he hushed. "It's alright now. I've got you."

She tried to say his name, say anything but she couldn't form the words through the tears of relief. It was real, he was real, she had done it. It had worked.

It was several minutes before she was calm enough to pull back and look at him. He looked exactly the same, so beautiful she ached, and though she knew she must look a wreck, the love in his gaze soothed her heart as nothing else could.

"I love you," she finally breathed, the only thing she could think to say. He smiled, grabbing her face and wiping at the streaks of tears on her cheeks with his thumbs.

"I love you too, Hermione," he said, then pulled her to his lips. _Oh,_ those lips, so soft and warm beneath hers that she whimpered. Gods, she'd missed this, how could she have lived without it?

When he pulled away Alvida handed him a handkerchief and he cleaned her face gently before she blew her nose, flicking the cloth clean afterwards. She stared up at him, unable to take her eyes away for a moment. His face fell as he took her in, stroking her cheek once more.

"Merlin, Hermione," he said sadly. "What have you been through? You look as if you've aged a decade."

For the first time in as long, Hermione threw her head back and laughed.

...

A/N: I am SO SORRY for this ridiculously late update. My computer crashed and ate a bunch of work from this story a couple months ago and I was so frustrated I gave it up. But I'm back to finish for good this time. Thank you for staying around, I hope you enjoy the rest.

XOXO

RynStar15


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